Category Archives: Bad Days

Good Days Are Few And Far Between

Posted on by
5

Yesterday was rough. I hadn’t slept well the night before, so my legs didn’t benefit from restorative sleep. That’s important because without restorative sleep, my pain level never goes down, and I’m unable to function properly the next day.

Most days, with or without restorative sleep, I don’t even brush my damn hair. I just use my fingers to pull up my hair into a ponytail. I need to take care of myself as well as Dad, but sometimes I just don’t have the energy.

Taking care of Dad is very important to me, and I need to be able to do what needs to be done. He is doing better now that he’s walking a little. He’s using his walker to get around and doesn’t need me to be right there by his side, as I was for the first week or so after he came home from the hospital. Even though he’s doing better, I still need to be able to fix meals, do dishes, laundry, etc. I’m hoping that soon, I will be able to get him in the shower. I’ve not been too confident about that because I can’t do much to prevent him from falling in the shower! God forbid anyone offer to help.

Yesterday, I was exhausted when I got up, and my pain level was sky high. Performing even the simplest tasks was a painful experience. I was in tears at one point, and Dad felt bad that he was putting me through this. I reassured him that none of this was his fault. It must be difficult for him not to be self-reliant like he used to be. It sucks to get old. He will be 89 next month.

When Dad was in bed for the night, I watched a little TV and got ready for bed. I hoped for a good night’s sleep, and that’s what I got! Almost 8 hours of sleep did my legs some good! I feel much better this morning, and I even made breakfast quesadillas. I hope tonight is a good one, too.

Wish me luck. I need all I can get!

Goodbye 2025!!

Posted on by
1

2025 was the worst year of my life. Worse than when my mom passed away. Worse than when my Granny passed away. Worse than when I made the decision to leave my ex. Worse than when my daughter found herself mixed up with the wrong man, drugs, and ended up in court, and in jail for 2 weeks. This year has been one I’d like to erase from history. 

In July, Dad fell outside, and I had to call 911 for assistance in getting him off the ground. That didn’t go as planned. The ambulance took over an hour to arrive, and during that hour, in the hottest part of the day, my dad had a heat stroke. Three of our volunteer firefighters showed up to help me keep Dad cool with wet towels. When the ambulance finally came, I thought I was going to have a heat stroke, too. It was 90-something that day! Upon arrival to the hospital, I could barely breathe. I thought we were going to lose Dad. The grief was all-consuming, and if it weren’t for my sisters, brother-in-law, “other daughter,” granddaughter, and grandson, I’d have been a much worse mess than I was. They were there for me. They comforted me when I slipped into deeper depression and when all I could do was cry. 

Dad recovered from that horrific incident. My son and his wife helped. My sister stayed to help, too. She was here for over 2 months. Dad got stronger and stronger, and I was finally able to care for him on my own. During that recovery time, there was some family drama that I won’t go into here, but because of that drama, things will never be the same with certain family members, and they will never get the same version of me as before. 

In October, my stubborn Dad decided he needed to do a chore outside. It was something that Contractor #2 could have done, but Dad wanted to do it. Well, I wasn’t going to let him go out and do it without my help. In the process of doing this chore, Dad fell and not just onto the ground. He fell into the barbed wire fence and ripped his forearm open. When I say ripped, I mean ripped big time! Dad is on a blood thinner, so this was a problem. I called 911 because I couldn’t stop the bleeding, no matter what I did. The ambulance arrived in 25 minutes, much improved from the last time. He ended up with stitches that night. He healed nicely, and I told him flat out, “No more outside chores for you!” 

In December, Dad started feeling poorly. He was weak and short of breath. He was panting and struggling to walk. I kept telling him that he needed to go to the doctor. He said he knew, but he kept putting it off. He didn’t want to go. After several days, he decided he’d better do something. He knew he wouldn’t be able to walk to the ER entrance, even if I pulled up front. He said, “You’d better call 911.” I did just that, and 30 minutes later, the ambulance pulled up. Before the ambulance came, our volunteer firefighters came to help again. They immediately checked his pulse rate and oxygen level and gave him oxygen while we waited for the ambulance. Poor Dad had been suffering from a case of pneumonia! It wasn’t full-blown pneumonia, but it could have been had he not gone to the hospital! He was on O2 the entire time. He was in the hospital for 9 days and came home the day after Christmas with home O2 equipment. We skipped Christmas altogether. 

It’s been difficult taking care of him by myself. My pain level has skyrocketed, and my mobility issues are worse than ever before. Since they didn’t walk Dad in the hospital, he became unable to do anything unassisted. So, I have been helping him with everything. A few days ago, I told him he has to start walking a little at a time so he can get stronger. He’s been doing that, and I think within a week or so, I may not have to work as hard to take care of him. He’ll be a little more independent, and I’ll still be right here to help. 

So, there’s 2025. The first 6 months weren’t too bad, but July brought us pain and uncertainty. I’m happy that I still have Dad here with me to bring in the New Year. He will be 89 in February. I hope to have many more years with him, but I accept the fact that my time with him may be coming to an end. He has been my best friend for so many years. He helped me raise my children when their father couldn’t be bothered. We designed and started building our new house together, the house we have yet to move into. I hope Dad sees the house finished and can actually live in it and be proud of what he has done. 

I know I’m rambling, so I’ll finish this post with my best wishes to you and yours in the New Year! May we all have a great year!

Until next time,

What’s Next?! Can We Not Ever Get A Break?

Posted on by
5

So many people have said to me, “You guys sure have a lot of bad luck!” That’s for sure! Every time I turn around, something else happens, and I just want to jump off a cliff!

On Friday, I was working in the kitchen when the water suddenly turned off. I thought I had accidentally hit the lever while working, causing it to turn off. When I turned the lever again, the water came back on. But later, when I went to wash my hands in the bathroom, there was no water. Not even a trickle. I went to the breaker box and flipped the switches for the well and pump, and water heater. Still no water. OMG.

When I was talking about it with Dad and my sister, I just about lost it. I started to cry. It’s so depressing when every damn time you turn around, something else goes wrong. I quickly pulled it together, as I always do. I called a well and pump guy, who came yesterday evening. We hoped for a simple fix, but as our luck has proven over and over again, I expected something that would cost us a fortune. A fortune that would come out of the funds for the new house.

I don’t think the Universe wants us to get into the new house. Or maybe the Universe wants us to die in the rubble of this old, crappy house when it falls in on us. Whatever the case, I wish it would just hurry the hell up. I’m tired of the continual bullshit, bad luck, and depression. My sister doesn’t deserve to live through this shit with us. She’s here to help, not get sucked under.

Anyway, the well guy came with a helper. They were at the wellhouse for about 30 minutes. I guessed they were testing this and that. When he came to the door, I let him in, expecting the worst. He said it was the control box for the pump. It got zapped by lightning or damaged by a major power surge. We all remembered just a few days ago when we had a thunderstorm. Ka-BOOM! Lightning had taken out my tower fan. I was thankful at the time that that was all it killed. We didn’t know it hit the control box, too. The guy said that it sometimes takes a few days for it to completely quit working. He showed us how a screw was completely burned, as well as other parts of the box. So, there ya go. $351.26 later, we had water again. At least it wasn’t the pump or a dry well.

I wish we could just win the lottery. Big money. A HUGE jackpot. Then we could get the new house done, take care of bills, and have money to live on for the rest of our lives. I’d help out family and friends. I’d donate the rest to local charities. I know, it’s wishful thinking to think we’d ever win the lottery!

We always get through crap like this, but I’m getting tired of it. Past tired of it. I mean, seriously. How much crap does one family have to endure before shit starts to let up? When will good luck ever come our way? I try to stay positive, but it’s getting old.

I hope you are having a great Sunday! Until next time,

Porky Pig Is A Doctor?

Posted on by
2

Dad had an appointment to see a nephrologist (kidney specialist) on Thursday. I have never been so disgusted with a doctor in my life! Our appointment was scheduled for 10:45. We arrived at 10:30. However, there were no signs outside the building to indicate which doors led to the doctor’s office. My sister went inside one set of doors to ask and was told it was the right place. So, I dropped my sister and Dad off at the doors, and then I parked the car.

When I stepped inside the doors, I was shocked! Junk everywhere. In a review, another person said it was like a flea market, and that’s pretty damn close. Dad filled out his forms, and he was called back. I went with him. He was weighed and has actually gained weight, thank goodness. We walked through even more junk up to that point. It was 11:20am. We were put in a room where we sat and waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Dad was getting as bitchy as I was. It was after 12pm, and we had had enough waiting. I was snippy with the nurse (who wasn’t dressed like a nurse at all), but who could blame me? Dad needs to rest in the comfort of his own home. No one should have to wait that long! I asked the nurse how much longer it would be, and that we had been waiting for over an hour. She said there was one patient ahead of us and that the doctor would be with us shortly. To which I replied, “That is IF we don’t get fed up and leave before that.” I guess she got the “doctor” moving because it wasn’t long before he came in.

The “doctor” was dressed in shorts and sandals, with no ID on him, nothing at all to indicate he was a doctor. I hate to say things about people’s weight, but this guy was a short, fat slob. He reminded me of Porky Pig.

Dr. Porky was curt with us, barely took Dad’s BP. What I mean is, he put the cuff on Dad, put the stethoscope ear pieces in his own ears, and pumped the bulb twice. He listened for 2 whole seconds and tossed the whole thing back in its place. In my experience, it takes more than 2 quick pumps to read a person’s BP. Dr. Porky pointed out Dad’s swollen feet and commented, “Congestive Heart Failure.” He then asked, “Are you drinking liquids?” Dad said, “I try to, but probably not enough.” To which Dr. Porky replied, “Drink more liquids.” I tried to tell Dr. Porky that today Dad was probably dehydrated because we had been on the road and HERE all damn day! Of course, he ignored me. He said he wanted blood work and that he would call us with the results. He said he wanted to see Dad in 3 months. On his way out the door, he looked at me and said, “He needs to drink 2 – 3 quarts of water every day.” And again, I tried to tell him that Dad’s dehydrated today because we had been waiting here all day, but usually he does drink a lot of water. Then Dr. Porky was gone, as if I hadn’t spoken a word. He was rude. He was very unprofessional, as was the nurse. The nurse practically tossed the new appointment card at me. And this Dr. Porky, the slob, the rude son of a bitch, wants to see Dad again in 3 months? I think not. Of course, it’s up to Dad if he wants to go back. I just might give them a piece of my mind the next time. It was 12:30pm when we finally left that POS office and Dr. Porky.

Oh, and get this! My sister was in the waiting room the whole time, and she said she heard Dr. Porky yelling at a patient! I dare the son of a bitch to yell at me or Dad! I am going to leave negative reviews everywhere!

Do you have any bad experiences with doctors? I have had many, but none like this one. I’m still in disbelief. How can anyone stay in business like this? Good grief!

Take care of yourselves, friends! Until next time,

Stress, Worry, and Pain

Posted on by
14

Where to start?! So much has happened in the last week, it’s just kind of a blur. I’ll start on July 4th, which seems like such a long time ago!

Last Friday, Dad and I headed out for a Walmart curbside order. We picked up our order, stopped for gas, and headed home. When we got home, Dad said he had to pee but that he wasn’t going to make it to the toilet so he stepped to the side of the yard and did his business. We live out in the boonies, so there’s no one around to see anything. While Dad was doing his thing, I was unloading the trunk and putting our groceries in the utility cart so we could lug it into the house. All of a sudden, I heard a yell, and when I looked up, Dad was on his hands and knees trying to get up.

He wasn’t injured, and he was coherent. He had just lost his balance and went down. He’s been doing this off and on for the last year or so but never outside. I rushed over to help but there’s nothing for him to hang onto in order for him to help me help him get up. Does that make sense? I tried and tried to get him up, but it just wasn’t working. I hobbled myself into the house to get the bathlift, which is like the lift they advertise on tv for the elderly when they fall. The only difference is that the bathlift is heavier. I tried to help him get his butt on the seat but he couldn’t sit up enough for it to work. He got so weak trying to get up that he just couldn’t anymore.

I called 9-1-1 at this point because I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do this without help. I told the dispatcher I needed help getting him off the ground and to please hurry because he’s in the sun! I was almost in a panic when Dad became unresponsive. There he was lying there IN THE SUN, and I was helpless. I grabbed our wet towels we had in the car (to help us stay cool because the a/c is on the fritz) and I wet them down more, and laid them across Dad’s head and back to help keep him cool. The ambulance was taking its sweet time! I called 9-1-1 again. The dispatcher asked for the address again. I told her AGAIN. I think I called 3 times and each time I told her that Dad was on the ground and IN THE SUN, and that I couldn’t get him up.

By this time, our neighbor, Mike, who is a volunteer firefighter, came to help. Two other helpful men came over, also volunteer firefighters, but honestly I have no clue who showed up first. We got more towels to drape over him and one guy had an umbrella he used to keep the direct sun off of Dad.

Finally, the ambulance came. One of the paramedics told me that the dispatcher gave them the wrong address, plus she never relayed the message that this was a heat related incident. I am so angry at that woman! They took Dad to the hospital. I was so hot and stressed out by then, I went inside and jumped in the shower, A COLD SHOWER, to be exact. I just sat there on the shower chair and cried as I cooled off. It was awful. I prayed that Dad would be ok. Then off to the hospital I went.

I had to talk to so many people, and I was dehydrated, so my mouth and throat became so dry I couldn’t talk unless someone brought me some water. They did, and it helped, but not very much. They took Dad to ICU and then they brought me to the ICU waiting room. At this point, I started texting people to let them know what had happened. It didn’t look great for Dad. He was still unresponsive and his temperature had been at 104 degrees when he came in. They were able to get his temp down to normal and he was on all kinds of IV drips and holy crap, it was awful seeing him like that! He was also on a ventilator. He suffered severe burns on his calves from the fabric of his pants touching his skin. IT WAS THAT HOT.

I don’t remember who came first. It could have been my son, since he lives closest but I can’t be sure. The grandkids (Dad’s great grandkids) started coming. I was so overwhelmed by everything, it’s just so blurry. The next day, my sisters and my brother in law came in from Tennessee. My daughter had just been here a couple of weeks before this happened. She had been worried that something would happen and that she’d not been able to see him. I’m glad she came when she did. Work interfered with her coming at this time because she just started as manager of a new Pizza Hut when she got home from her visit.

As the days have gone by, Dad has slowly showed improvement. He came off the vent with a throat sore he couldn’t talk. As the swelling came down, his speech improved. Still not at 100% so it’s a little hard to understand him. He had been on a diet of puree and thickened liquids until yesterday, when they changed it to a mechanical diet. That means he can eat things like meat but it looks like it’s been chewed up already. LOL. His burns are healing. They took him off the IV drips yesterday. They have had him up walking. It tires him out terribly but he’s doing better.

As I was leaving yesterday, they were getting a regular room ready for him. From here they want him to get some physical therapy to make him stronger so we found a place closer to home that takes his insurance. He will be moving there soon, but it’s only temporary, until he’s stronger and can come home. Please pray that he does well enough to come home.

In case you don’t know, I am disabled and can only walk with crutches. This proved to be very difficult for me to get across the hospital parking lot to the building. Every day. When my sisters were here, my youngest sister got a transport chair and pushed me around, making it easier on me. After they left though, I was on my own. I am not strong enough to get my wheelchair in the car otherwise I would have been able to wheel myself around. They have a guy that drives a cart around the parking lots, giving people rides but I had a difficult time getting on and off of that thing so I just walk. I’m in so much pain I just want to sit on my ass and not move at all. This morning my arms and shoulders are sore from using the crutches, I assume. I was going to go see Dad today, but I don’t think I can do that walk again.

I may have forgotten some details but I think you can understand all that happened. It’s been such a short time but it seems like it’s been weeks. I miss Dad not being home. It’s been difficult, mentally and physically. Tomorrow’s my birthday and Dad won’t be here. We don’t celebrate our birthdays really but it’s many, many years (30+) that he’s not been here on my birthday. It seems so strange.

I now need to figure out how I can get that new house finished so when Dad comes home it’s to a nice house instead of a dump. That’s the focus. My family might be coming back and I think they will help me get things figured out. Fingers crossed that all goes well. I will keep you all posted as best I can. Please pray for us!

Until next time,

PS I apologize for spelling and grammar errors. I’m lucky I can even see straight at this point.