Tag Archives: exhaustion

The Night Dad Scared The H*ll out of Me

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It’s getting to be too much for both of us. Getting groceries, that is. I always place a curbside order once a week. I try to limit items to no more than 20. It never fails I end up with more than 20 because one of us forgot we needed toilet paper or paper towels or something else.

Dad and I pick up the order, which is the easy part. (Good grief, I hope Walmart never discontinues this service!) When we get home, I load bags of groceries into a utility cart. Heavier items go on the bottom, of course. Dad pulls the cart up the ramp and into the house. The problem is, we still have some heavy items like water and kitty litter. I use our lunch cart for those items; I bring the cart to the door and Dad carries those items to the door and puts them on the cart. It’s not far because I pull right up to the ramp. When all is unloaded, I tell Dad to go change his clothes so he can sit and rest. I unload the groceries from the utility cart and put things away.

Dad changed his clothes and sat down in his chair to rest. He was exhausted and went to sleep. He fell asleep off and on for the rest of the day. Later, he watched a movie or something on the Firestick. I was in the kitchen doing a puzzle, listening to an audiobook.

When it crept closer to 10pm, which is his bedtime, I knew he had fallen asleep because he was so quiet. Normally, I hear him cough, laugh, talk to one of the cats, or more often than not, drop something like the remote. He falls asleep in his chair all the time so I didn’t think twice about it…until it was 10:15 and he was still not even getting ready for bed. Usually, he gets ready for bed around 9:45.

I went to check on him and there he was fast asleep. I saw his chest rising and falling but he was out like a light! I called out to him to tell him what time it was. He didn’t wake up. I called out louder and still, he didn’t wake up. I sat down in my chair to give the furbabies their Temptations snacks, as per our normal routine. Trust me, they were all sitting by my chair waiting. They knew it was past time! 

I kept trying to wake Dad, getting louder and still, nothing. Finally, I touched his hand and tried again to wake him. He just would not wake up! I shook his arm; still nothing. I shook harder and finally, thank God, he woke up! He scared me to death. I thought I had lost him. I just cried in a huge wave of relief. He had no idea what was going on. 

I dread the day I have to say goodbye to this man who has truly been there for me my entire life. He is closer to a best friend than I’ve ever had in my life. (Even closer than the best friend I actually had, who come to find out, was judging me all along.) He has helped me raise my kids when their father couldn’t be bothered to write to them. We have shared many things, including finances and health issues.

Losing Dad will be the biggest loss I will ever face. 

What’s Eating Aunt Debbie?

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So many things, so little time. Actually, I have time but I don’t have the motivation.

Dad’s been having issues. Constipation, for one. I tell him to drink more water, eat fruit, eat some veggies, take a laxative of some kind every night, take a stool softener….ugh. It takes a specialist in gastroenterology to tell him the same things before he gets it. I feel like it’s my fault that he’s having digestive issues because I just can’t stand in the kitchen and cook like I used to. I have to rely on frozen meals and quick Instant Pot or Crock Pot recipes; things that go together quickly. I don’t buy much fresh produce because I can’t eat it all myself. He won’t touch it. If I’m making myself a salad, he doesn’t want one. If he’s not very hungry at dinner time, I offer him an apple. He declines. He has cookies instead. You get the idea.

I picked up a curbside order on Friday and was beat afterward. I just can’t believe how exhausted I am from doing something so simple. I’m sorry I didn’t post Friday’s Funnies but I was just too tired. I am determined to make sure Dad gets the fiber he needs, whether he likes it or not, so I made sure to get lots of fresh fruit and veggies. I also bought some chops and cheap steaks, chicken breasts, potatoes, and some canned and dried fruit. I spent the entire day Saturday washing produce, vacuum sealing meats and corn on the cob. I blanched the corn first, vacuum-sealed it, and tossed it in the freezer. Very simple things but I was exhausted. I took lots of breaks. My knees were killing me! Since we went out for pizza after picking up our curbside order, I only had enough energy to pop the leftovers in the microwave for lunch. I ate mine cold. Yummo.

Saturday night was hell. I was in so much pain, all I could do was lay in my reclining lift chair. My back hurt so bad I couldn’t even think straight. Sunday, wasn’t as bad but I had aches and pains in places that I forgot I had. I’m still in a bit of pain this morning but my pain is almost down to the level it usually is.

Anyway, about Dad’s issues. His memory is failing. He stumbles quite often, thankfully though he hasn’t hit the floor in quite some time. He’s not helping as much around the house like he used to. For example, every night he would get the coffee maker ready for morning but lately, he has just completely forgotten about it. I don’t mind doing it but this is happening a lot with other things and I just can’t do it all myself. He used to sweep the floor when he saw it needed to be swept. He used to swish the toilet when he saw it was dirty. He used to get stuff out of the washing machine automatically and put clothes in the dryer. Now I have to ask him to do it. I’m too short and the washing machine drum is too deep. I just can’t reach! It’s getting worse and worse and my own pain and mobility issues are quite enough for me to handle. I just don’t know what I’m going to do when Dad needs more care than I can provide.

My family’s (sisters and daughter) solution is that we move to Tennessee so they can help us. Dad won’t move but even if he wanted to, how in the hell am I supposed to pack shit up and get ready to move when I can’t even wash produce without it killing me? Dad can’t help much. How am I supposed to drive 5 hours in a car that I can barely get in and out of? Too many loose ends to deal with. What would I do with my furbabies? What about my son? If I moved away, then he wouldn’t have any of his family near him. At least my sisters and my daughter all have each other in Tennessee. Where would we live? I’m not living with my daughter or my sisters. They already have their hands full with who knows how many dogs and cats! Too crowded for me. Also, our property and everything on it is paid for. Why the hell would I want to start all over? No, thank you. I guess since I can’t get family to step up, I’ll have to kill myself trying to take care of Dad. Ugh.

I have put my own health on the back burner for the past 6 years or so. I have not pursued knee replacement surgery since the last orthopedic doc told me I had to lose more weight first. Since then, Dad has become more frail and I can’t leave him home alone. How the hell am I supposed to have surgery when I can’t leave him alone? I never thought I’d be in this predicament. There’s no one to help – I’m in this alone. And I’m tired…oh so tired.

I started this blog many years ago. I think it was around 2008 and I started it to have a place to vent, to get things off my chest. I’m really glad I still have it because it helps to vent. I thank you for reading – whether you’ve been following me since the beginning or have just started, I thank you very much.

Peace, my friends.

aunt-debbie

Getting Back to Normal

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I’m sitting here this morning, listening to a Bobwhite outside my bedroom window. Oh, how I enjoy the bird sounds of Spring! Of course, I enjoy birds and listening to their conversations all year round!

In my last post (I think) I mentioned CNN anchor, Jake Tapper, also a novelist who was asked about writing, “Where do you find the time?” To this he replied, “I write every day. Even if it’s just for 15 minutes. If you write 15 minutes a day for a week it adds up. Wherever I was I had a laptop and I worked on the book when I had free time. From April through August 2020 I had no commute. I worked from home. That was two hours I would normally have spent driving and parking. The 15 minutes a day rule really works, even if it turns out to be garbage, it takes you somewhere.” I paraphrased in my last post but this time I got the exact quote. Ever since I saw that interview, I have been trying to write for 15 minutes a day! That hasn’t worked out well now, has it? I’ve been trying to write this post all week!

I feel like things are slowly getting back to normal, somewhat anyway. Dad and I are fully vaccinated now. We have enjoyed lunch out several times and I got my hair cut at the salon. I’m so happy to not have that damn ponytail at the back of my head!

It’s pretty exhausting, getting back to our pre-pandemic routine. We just aren’t used to it after staying at home for so long. Sure, we went out for groceries now and then but that wasn’t often. And for the first 215 days of the pandemic, we never went anywhere! What I couldn’t find online and have shipped, my son or a friend would pick up for us. But, we got tired of staying home!

I’ve had appointments with a lymphedema therapist for the past few weeks. That’s exhausting enough, but it wasn’t half as exhausting as jumping through a couple dozen hoops and filling out about half a thousand forms to get financial aid because my insurance wouldn’t pay for it! I don’t have lymphedema, but it could very well turn into lymphedema if left untreated. The therapy is helping; it’s a gentle massage that helps move extra fluid from an area that is swollen. There’s much talking during this massage and it’s so relaxing that I wish she’d be quiet so I can go to sleep! I’ll keep going each week as long as my financial aid will allow.

After my appointment last week, Dad and I went to a Mexican restaurant for a very late lunch because we were starving to death. We were so tired because we’re not used to the long drives (country living, y’all – everything’s so far away) but our stomachs were conversing and planning a take-over! We stopped at a Mexican restaurant that we had eaten at many times before the pandemic. It wasn’t our favorite place but it sure as hell isn’t even on the list NOW. The food wasn’t that great and my refried beans were nearly WHITE! I’ve been eating at Mexican restaurants for many, many years and have never been served nearly WHITE refried beans! (Refried beans are typically made with pinto beans and they are not white!) I tasted their beans and they tasted like they should have but the color was off so I didn’t eat any more of them. Dad and I both got sick that evening, so something wasn’t right about their food! This week, we went to another old fave, Ruby Tuesday, and we weren’t very impressed with them either. The food was really good but there were flies everywhere and I knew why when I went to the Ladies Room. It smelled like pure sewage in there! The server told us they had a sewage problem. (No shit, Sherlock!) Seems to me, that if a food establishment is having sewage problems then they shouldn’t be open to the public, because after all, they are preparing food and people are there to enjoy a meal…not smell sewage!

2 weeks ago, I had a procedure done on my toe. Toe NAIL, I should say. Some of the nail had to be removed (and killed off) because of ingrown nail problems. I’m telling you, the shots in my toe were painful as fuck! It took 4 shots to numb my poor little BIG toe! After the procedure, I felt no more pain and haven’t since. I’m glad it’s over but it would have been nice to get it done months ago. Dad and I have avoided going to the doctor since March 2020. Thankfully, at our clinic they require masks and do a temp check on each person as they enter the door.

Saturday, we decided it was high time to get back to our pre-pandemic Saturday routine! We shopped for produce (and Dad’s wine) and hit the Dollar Tree. Afterward, we went to our favorite Mexican restaurant, El Chico! We went about 2 weeks ago, and had a nice experience. They are very committed to keeping their patrons not only happy, but safe from Covid-19. There’s hand sanitizer as you enter, the tables are sanitized before people are being seated, paper menus are used, and you are asked to wear a mask until your drinks arrive at your table. I’m pleased with the tables/seating arrangements as they were never crowded together before and it’s no different now. I don’t feel someone’s breath on my neck and I don’t have to worry about someone bumping into me as I raise the fork to my mouth! It’s a very comfortable and welcoming atmosphere. We didn’t get sick after eating there, and there were no flies and no stink!

So, there’s my 15 minutes+ and I hope it’s not garbage! I’ll be busy for the next month or so getting ready for family to come. I have to clean and declutter – and it takes me a long time because of my mobility issues and pain. I may or may not have time for 15 minutes a day but I’ll sure try!

Until next time,

Aunt Debbie

The Ex-Files – An 80mph Show

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Many moons ago, CP and I lived out in the country not too far from the town I grew up in. We were supposed to buy that house, owned by his uncle, but that’s another blog post.

We had been in town one evening, getting groceries. My grandmother was with us. She lived in the trailer behind the house. My daughter, just 2 at the time was strapped into her car seat, next to my grandmother in the back seat.

It was later in the evening, around 7pm or so. It was summer, so it was still light out. CP was driving. I always let him drive because he made me feel like a shitty driver, always nagging at me. I could pull into a parking lot and drive across an empty parking spot and he would be sure to tell me what could have happened had there been a car there. One time, being sick to death of his bullshit, I replied, “No shit. I wouldn’t have been able to drive over the spot if there had been a car there!” I mean, really? What the fuck? Another time, I made a left-hand turn and slightly clipped the right lane of the road I was turning onto. There were no cars on that road or anywhere else. CP had to tell me what would have happened if there had been a car there. I told him, “Do I really look so stupid that I would have turned like that if there HAD BEEN a car there?” But I digress. My point is that I let him drive because I didn’t want to hear his continual criticism.

So, we’re driving home that night after shopping in town. CP was driving normal speeds in town but when we hit the country roads he wasn’t going 55mph, the posted speed limit. He wasn’t going 45mph. He wasn’t even going 35mph! I was exhausted after grocery shopping, taking care of my daughter, the cleaning, the yard, cooking, laundry and every damn thing else and I just wanted to get home. I kept asking myself, Why the fuck is he going 25mph? I kept looking at the speedometer, thinking I was misreading it. I wasn’t. He was really going that slow. I was getting more and more freakin’ aggravated! I just wanted to get home, unload the groceries and put them away, bathe my daughter and get her to bed, finish folding laundry and putting it away…all without his help, of course. It was always ‘without his help.’ I asked CP, “Why are you going so slow?” His response was something about the nice summer drive in the country…yadda, yadda, yadda. I didn’t give a fuck about that at this point because I was tired and still had shit to do.

I told him, “That’s all good and a nice thought but I have a lot of things to do when we get home and I’m really tired.” Did he speed up? Nope. After what seemed like forever, I finally snapped and said, “Good God, you drive like an old lady!” I guess he didn’t like being criticized for his driving so what did he do? He hit the accelerator and kicked the speed up to 35…45…55…I thought to myself, it’s about damn time. But he didn’t stop at 55. His speed went up to 65, then 70. What a fucking crybaby, I thought. Then at his top speed, he was going 80mph, slowing only to make the required turns to get us home. I was gripping the door handle for dear life. My Granny’s eyes got huge and she was hanging on as well. My daughter, thankfully, had no clue. Thank God for seatbelts and car seats.

When we got home, I was pissed. I felt like cutting his fucking throat with a jagged knife. He was in one of his moods now, in his mind obviously my fault. He said absolutely nothing, most likely because he knew I had a fucking temper; he had seen it before. I quickly put all the fridge and freezer foods away, leaving the rest until later. CP was fumbling around the house and then got ready for bed. I got my daughter to bed, no bath. I was exhausted…emotionally and physically.

I wanted to lay into CP so badly, but I knew it was a fruitless effort because inevitably, it was always my fault. Even though I expressed nicely that I just wanted to get home because I was tired. He ignored what I wanted, as usual. I made a comment he didn’t like, so it was all my fault.

Eventually, we had a discussion…about a lot of things. His 80mph show of masculinity was not one of them. He wanted to talk about my 1962 Cougar, sitting idle on the property. It had sat idle for years; first at the house in town and now on the property at the country house. His uncle wanted to show the property but wanted the old cars removed.

The discussion turned to the fact that MY car had been sitting for 6 months while I was left without my own transportation. The car needed ONE part, for the carburetor I believe, and my grandmother paid for that. CP installed the part, after weeks of the car being out of order. Finally, I thought I would have my wheels back but…NO. CP wanted to fucking paint the parts under the hood so they wouldn’t rust!! Weeks and weeks pass, and now 6 months later I was still without wheels. I told him, “I think you like the fact that I’m stuck at home with no transportation. I think you like knowing that I can’t go anywhere without you taking me.” He said that wasn’t the case, but I knew better. He didn’t know that I was NOT home as he thought I was a couple times a week, thanks to friends and family. I’m thankful we didn’t have cell phones back then with GPS, because you bet your ass he would have been tracking me!

Honestly, thinking back about all the shit this man put me through, I’m surprised I didn’t eventually snap and cut his throat. I’m not a bad person, but I sure understand why women kill their husbands or boyfriends! A woman can only take so much! Emotional and mental abuse is just as bad if not worse than physical abuse. One time I told him, “Sometimes, I wish you’d just hit me because at least I then I could defend myself.” But he knew better than that…

My Empathic Heart Is In Pain

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I’m having a difficult time connecting with friends I once connected with, or so I thought. Looks like their sense of what is right and what is wrong has been highly compromised by their support of Donald Trump.

Normally, I accept differences of opinion but this goes far beyond a difference of opinion. This is more about a person’s moral compass. This about another side that was tucked away; away from others, away from me. I’m seeing a side of people I never knew before.

I have to remove myself from these people, these friends, because they’re tearing my heart out. Their racist remarks make me think ill of them. Their lack of compassion towards others breaks my heart. Their willful ignorance of the facts and touting “fake news” because the mighty orange one said so makes me want to scream. Their sources of information come from websites/articles not even written by professional journalists and they seek only sources that agree with what they already believe to be true.

These friends, some I have known most of my life and others maybe a decade or more (or less) think the Muslim women in Congress should “go back to where they came from” and they totally disregard that these women are AMERICAN CITIZENS! A person’s religion or skin color does NOT make them unAmerican.

There are those who believe every government conspiracy that comes across their Facebook feed in a meme without any fact-checking. And I don’t mean fact-checking on fly-by-night websites either! To research the truth, one must go to multiple sources and use critical thinking skills. Oh, wait. Some folks aren’t capable of critical thinking! They take what they are fed. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think the government, OUR government, is always truthful and transparent. However, just because you don’t understand how something happened doesn’t automatically shout cover-up!

Some friends believe that immigrants shouldn’t be helped. I know we can’t help them all, but the pure hatred some show and speak towards those fleeing from violence and oppression is terrifying to me. How can my friends be so hateful? And what about those affected by the hurricane in the Bahamas? Is there a reason why they shouldn’t be helped? They have nothing and we have everything!!

My empathic heart is in dreadful pain. It’s exhausted. I’m exhausted. I can’t bear to listen to or read another hateful word. So, I shall close myself off from those who cause me this pain. It’s bad enough to hear hatefulness spewing from a man who is supposed to represent this country. That man does not represent me.

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