Realization

It just occurred to me last night that the reason I am so exhausted and in more pain is that I’m doing everything. I mean, I knew I was doing everything, but I hadn’t really thought about all the little things (and bigger things) Dad used to do to help. Have you considered that I’m just an idiot? I guess I just didn’t realize how much he really helped.

Before Dad’s bout with pneumonia, he was helping. (And helping even more before his fall and heat stroke.) Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect him to help. I’m just saying that he isn’t helping like he used to. Maybe he can in the future, but not now. He used to wash dishes at least once a day. He would transfer laundry from the washer to the dryer, and then put most everything away. He used to scoop the litter box when he got up in the morning and again when he went to bed. (I’d do it about 1,500 times in between.) He also gave the cats fresh water daily, knowing that since I walk with crutches, I can’t carry the water bowls. He swept the bathroom floor every time one of the cats (mostly BobCat!) kicked litter all over the place. Dad did a lot of things to help, some little, some big. Now he’s not helping at all. It’s all on me now. 

I have to pace myself and do a little, then take a break. Meals have become a major pain in my ass. Oftentimes before, Dad would just make himself a sandwich for dinner, and he was fine with that. He got his own snacks and breakfast. I would prepare lunch, sometimes something quick, and other times, I’d actually cook. Now, I wait on Dad hand and foot. I don’t mind that so much because he is my Dad and my best friend. I’m taking care of him the best I can. Anyone who thinks otherwise can kiss my ever-lovin’ ass.

Until next time,

Good Days Are Few And Far Between

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!

The Outhouse and Update

Funny, not funny… More like embarrassing, disgusting, depressing, and irritating!

Several months ago, our toilet decided it was going to spring a teeny-tiny, itty-bitty, slooow water leak. Contractor #1 tried to fix it, thought he had fixed it, in fact. It was not fixed. We were going to have Contractor #1 look at it again, but we never saw him after that. That was in May, I believe.

In June, we were hopeful that Contractor #1 would be coming to work on the house and that we would ask him to look at the toilet leak again. We didn’t know at the time that he had no intention of coming back, so we just waited and put up with the water leak. It was very slow, after all. Then the freakin’ toilet decided it wasn’t going to flush anymore. I turned off the water to the toilet at this point. We used a pitcher of water to flush the damn toilet after that.

Dad fell and had a heat stroke in July. Up until then, I expected Dad to find another contractor to finish the house. It’s his money so it’s his responsibility, right? He should be making the decisions and hiring people because I know nothing about building a house and hiring people. I don’t know what’s a fair price to pay for this or for that. But now, it was up to me. Dad was in the hospital and didn’t come home until the beginning of August. By then, I had made arrangements to get the car fixed: alignment, new tires, and a/c. It was in serious bad shape! With the help of Other Daughter, I even found Contractor #2, who has finished up the house nicely! (Update at the end of this post.) I decided that, as big a pain in the huge royal ass it is, we can suffer with the toilet having to be flushed with a pitcher of water, because why spend the money on a new toilet or whatever would need to be done when we would be in the new house soon? That would be money better spent on the new house!

So, here we are, mid-November. We are still flushing with a pitcher of water. The bathroom always stinks like an outhouse. It’s like having an inside outhouse! I hate it! I hate it when someone comes over! Even close friends and family. I light candles (good candles) when I think someone is coming. When we move to the new house, it’s going to be weird having a flushable toilet! There are many things we’ll have to get used to. That might make an interesting post later on!

Anyway, the house is nearly ready for move-in. The HVAC is the last big thing left to do. The HVAC guy is always busy, but he said we are on his schedule for next week. Fingers crossed. Hmm… Maybe kitchen cabinets are actually the last big thing we’ll have to do. IF IF IF we have any money left over, that is. Even if we can’t get all the cabinets we want, we’ll make the kitchen usable. I can deal with it, being that it is a much better situation than this old dump of a house we are in now. We also need to go pick out a stove and a stove hood. I have some new furniture that needs to be put together, too. My new medicine cabinet needs to be hung in the bathroom. There are a few little things to be done that may or may not wait until we move in.

Of course, there’s still the flooring and trim that have to be done later. If we had done it after painting the interior, as most people do, it would have taken at least $6,000 for vinyl planking, plus labor! That would have taken a lot out of our funds, and we definitely wouldn’t be as far along as we are now. Nothing wrong with plywood floors for now

When the day comes that we will be moving into the new house, we can finally say goodbye to the inside outhouse! I can’t wait! (It gets old after a while!)

It’s a busy time of the year, friends. Pay attention and wear your seatbelt!

Until next time,

Saying No To Holidays

Someone asked me yesterday how Dad and I would spend the holidays. I said, “I don’t know,” but the truth is, I don’t care to celebrate at all. Screw the holidays. There’s no one to celebrate with. I refuse to celebrate with people who belittle me, judge me, think the worst of me, or steal my energy. It’s just Dad and me against the world, as always.

I thought things would be different this year. I thought we would be in the new house by now (it now looks like January or February) and that my sister would be here to help us. My sister is not coming back. My son is 15 miles away, but apparently, he doesn’t think enough of us to even check on us, by text, DM, or otherwise. My best friend is no longer my best friend, so we won’t even be having the “friendsgiving” we had talked about having every year.

I loved the holidays when my kids were little. The little things, like gifts they made in school, or watching the excitement on their faces as they opened their own gifts, were among the best things about the holidays. It was fun! One year, I even wrapped every single framed photo in the living room with colorful wrapping paper and bows to decorate the house! Imagine the kids’ surprise when they came home from school to see this! As they got older, the fun was gone.

These days, I despise the holidays. All of them. Every holiday brings back memories and brings on waves of grief and loss. This year for Christmas, the grandkids will get a little something from Dad and me. That is IF we have the money to do even that. Every penny seems to be going toward the new house, and that’s great IF we won’t have to spend another winter in this dilapidated dump we call home.

Monday Thoughts

Children don’t see color. When my daughter was in the 1st grade, she would come home from school, always excited about her new friend. It wasn’t until a school event that I learned her new best friend was of color. It didn’t matter, of course. Not to my girl and not to me. It wasn’t too long before the little girl and her family moved away. After hearing some awful stories about people being chased out of the area, I don’t blame them for leaving at all. People are so cruel sometimes. Color doesn’t matter. We are all the same inside.

Well, I had a really cute short video clip from Facebook, but WP or Facebook won’t let me share it here. Either that, or I’m not smart enough to figure out how to do it. Hahaha.

Have a great day, friends!