Tag Archives: mobility issues

Don’t Ask Me…

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“How are you?” she asked out of politeness, not really wanting to hear how I am. It’s easy to tell when someone really isn’t interested. It happens more often than I’d like.

Don’t ask me how I am if you don’t want to hear that I’m having a bad day. I would listen to you.

Don’t ask me how I am if you don’t want to hear that my mobility issues are getting worse. I would listen to you.

Don’t ask me how I am if you don’t have time to hear the answer. I would make time for you.

Don’t ask me how I am if you don’t want to hear the truth, because the truth is all that I have. I would hope you would tell me the truth about how you’re doing.

Don’t ask me how I am if all you’re going to do is suggest remedies or special exercises because trust me, I have tried them all. I’m sure you would have tried them all too, if you were in the same boat as me.

From now on when someone asks me how I am, the answer will be, “I’m fine.” Because they don’t want to know how I really am. I’m tired of being pushed to move, or to do this or that. I just happen to know my situation better than anyone else so I don’t need “friendly advice” about how I should live my life, well-meaning or not.

What’s Eating Aunt Debbie?

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The last 3 months have been awful. It all started just before Thanksgiving when I did a few chores to get ready for guests.

I’m not kidding myself about this crappy house. I know that no matter what I do, the house will still look like ass, as my sister would say. But there were a few things that needed to be done and if I don’t do it then who will? One of those things was the cat litter box that needed to be dumped, cleaned, disinfected, and refilled. I use clumping litter so it lasts a long time but I always push it because it kills me to clean it out.

So, I did the dirty deed of cat litter duty and proceeded to fuck up my lower back, resulting in a pinched nerve. The pain in my spine was minimal but my legs (mostly my left leg) began to fall asleep all the time, while I was standing or walking! If I was on my feet for too long, then it would start to burn like hell.

I went to see my NP, who is kind of on my shit list at the moment (more on that later), and she gave me a steroid injection. It helped tremendously but only for about 24 hours. She told me to come back for another injection, which helped but not as much as the first. I’ve been patiently waiting for the inflammation to go down. My NP said it may take some time and here I am still having issues with my left leg falling asleep. I will see her this week if I can get in. I’ve been putting it off.

My NP is a great person and she seems to know what she’s doing. She treats me like I’m human and not some reject from one of Rob Zombie’s horror flicks. She’s easy to talk to and seems to really care. My problem with her is that she lies on my records, or at least it appears that she lies. I’m not sure if the person transcribing my records has made the error or if my NP has truly lied. I went to the online patient portal to see my records from my last visit and I was truly shocked and pissed off at what I found. In my records she states, “patient declined weight loss medication,” “patient declined referral to dietitian/nutritionist,” “patient refused referral to orthopedist,” and “patient refused referral for pain management.” She also said when speaking of lymphedema therapy (as I had a few years ago), that I said “they can’t do anything more for me.” These things were all regarding my last visit and none are true! None of those things were ever offered and we never spoke of lymphedema at all since I had the therapy a few years ago. I mean, good grief!! Now I think I may have to find another provider but holy crap I have yet to see a doctor that I like and doesn’t 1) treat me like I’m stupid, 2) fat shame me, 3) act like he/she can’t be bothered with my questions, or 4) doesn’t do anything to help (probably because of my insurance). I’m up shit creek with no paddle to whack the hell out of anyone.

Other shit going on includes our kitchen sink drain being clogged. I have tried several different products and nothing works. We literally cannot use the kitchen sink because the drain won’t…DRAIN. Ugh. My son has other things going on and I guess we aren’t important enough for him to come help. Dad won’t call a fucking plumber and we can’t continue washing dishes in the bathroom because lugging the washtub full of dishes to the bathtub is a royal pain in the ass. Dad fell doing that and broke half the dishes we had just washed! We use paper plates when we can and that helps but this shit is getting old. Hell, it’s past old now. If I were able-bodied I would have gone out to the ditch with the auger and unplugged the damn drain myself a long time ago! Dad can’t do it any easier than I can because if he falls out there and can’t get up on his own, I can’t get out there to help him. He said he’s going to have to try, anyway.

Dad’s falls are becoming more frequent. He fell off the recumbent bike twice because he fell asleep while he was sitting on it. He wasn’t using it, just sitting. He hit the side of his eye on the handlebar and still has a black eye. That made 3 falls (including the dish-breaking incident) in just as many days. Two of those falls were in the same day.

We haven’t had hot water in the washing machine for over a month. The spigots got filled with debris (how the hell that happens, I don’t know) and my son replaced the cold water spigot but then the other wouldn’t work, so we had to get a replacement part for that. Dad said he could do that himself but he just got around to it yesterday. I now have hot water in the washing machine! Hot diggety damn! I haven’t washed kitchen towels, cleaning rags, or bath towels all this time because I needed the hot water. Good thing we have lots of towels and rags! Now I have a ton of washing to get caught up on. Ugh.

I’m trying to stay in good spirits…and the spirits in the alcohol cabinet are looking pretty good! Seriously though, it’s hard to stay positive, especially with my pain and mobility issues. The other problems would be easier to deal with without those issues. I’m told all the time how strong I am. I don’t feel very strong. In fact, I break down at least once a day. Still, I keep going. Who’s going to take care of Dad if I don’t? I thought that at this stage of my life, I’d have family around. Boy, was I wrong.

Spit It Out, Will You??

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Last month, Dad and I went to the Health Department to get our updated Covid-19 vaccinations. Things went well. There was no delay in being called back. The ladies in the office and the nurses giving the vaccines were on top of things. We were ready to leave when Dad spies a sign that read, “Get Your Shingles Vaccine Today.” He and I both need to get it done so I inquired at the window. Another nurse was called up to the window to answer my inquiry. Her name was Becky and I assumed she would be competent. I assumed wrong!

First, she asked for our insurance cards to check if Shingrix was covered. It took her 40 minutes to come back and tell us that Dad’s would be covered but my insurance wouldn’t cover it. The way she spoke annoyed the crap out of me. It was like she needed a smack on the back of the head to spit it out. She was really trying my patience. (And I really don’t think it was a speech impediment because I heard her talking to one of the other nurses without trouble.)

Finally, after having to concentrate on what she was trying to say, I understood that the state-provided vaccine would be free for me. Okay, that’s great because I can’t afford $200 a pop…and there are 2 flippin’ vaccines 6 months apart! So, off Becky went to see about available appointments. Well, guess what? They didn’t have any state-provided Shingrix vaccines. Did she check to see when they would be getting more in? No. She had to go back and check. She came back and said she didn’t know when they would be getting more in but that I should check back periodically. She then said she would go back to see when they had available appointments for Dad. She should have done that already when she said was checking the first time! Then she came back and asked me to come to her office to see when a good time would be. Holy crap. Her desk was a disaster area! I don’t know how anyone could do their job with a desk in that condition!

Anyway, I made the appointment for Dad to get his first Shingrix vaccine. Becky told us again that the state-provided vaccine would be free but she didn’t know when they would get more in. She said she would try to find out and call me. After an hour and 20 minutes, we finally got out of that place! (The first 10 minutes were smooth sailing!)

Becky tried to call us several times in the following week. Dad answered the first time but she couldn’t speak up and spit it out so he hung up on her. (I assumed it was her, perhaps it wasn’t.) The next time she called I answered and after every 3 or 4 words she would stop and say, “Can you hear me?” I was getting so damn annoyed that I finally yelled, “Yes. I can hear you! What do you want?!” Then dial tone. She hung up on me. I hoped she wouldn’t call back. I told Dad if the phone rings again, don’t answer. Just let her leave a voicemail.

The following week, she called and we weren’t home so she had no choice but to leave a voicemail. She stuttered and stammered through the entire message and told me absolutely nothing that I didn’t already know! Her phone call was a waste of time. If I had been home to answer the phone, I would have told her that!

Things like that really get under my skin! I expected a nurse to tell me that we were or were not covered by our insurance, and then make appointments to get the vaccine. I expected to be told what I needed to know in a timely manner. Being disabled and in constant pain, I do not have the patience or energy for such bullshit.

I used to be a very patient person. Over the years, as my chronic pain and mobility issues advanced, my patience went out the window. I don’t like phone calls or incompetence. I loathe having to deal with people. I despise red tape and bureaucratic bullshit. We all have those things to contend with but I just can’t handle it anymore.

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

Stress, Pain, and Loneliness

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I’ve been extremely stressed this past week. I don’t know whether I’m comin’ or goin’, as they say. If you’ve been reading my blog then you know I struggle with pain and mobility issues and that I am looking after my 86 year old Dad. I seriously need a break.

There seems to always be some kind of disagreement, or friction between Dad and I. He always remembers things differently than I do. I’m not sayng he’s always wrong; sometimes he is right. There’s always something he doesn’t understand, or something he forgets, and once in a while he forgets HOW to do something. He’s very unsteady on his feet and he hasn’t fallen in quite some time but I feel like I can’t leave him home alone for longer than it takes me to see my NP for a script renewal. I should get a nanny cam so I can keep an eye on him just so I can go have lunch with a friend once in a while. I can’t even remember the last time I was out without Dad.

Anyway, it wouldn’t be so stressful if I had some help. All of my family is in Tennessee and I am NOT moving to TN! My son is 15 miles from us. Yes, you read that right. He is 15 miles from us and I have not heard from him in just over 2 months. I’ve not seen him since Christmas and he hasn’t even bothered to text me. I know he’s busy with his own family and his own life but it only takes a few seconds to type out a quick “how are you?” once in a while. I don’t think I’ve been this hurt in a long time. Dad asked me if I had texted him in the last couple of months. No, I have not. When I do text the boy, it takes him sometimes days before he responds. Why would I even bother?

It’s a seriously lonely time in my life. Anyone who is responsible for looking after an elderly parent will feel the same way. It is lonely and stressful to carry it all by yourself. God forbid if Dad is ever diagnosed with dementia. He’s not that bad yet. He has his moments but mostly he knows what’s going on and basically takes care of himself. He just needs to be watched and reminded of certain things. I signed on for this but at the time, I had no way of knowing that I would be disabled and struggling myself come show time.

So, what do I do? I bitch a little, cry a little, and then I suck it up. I do what I have to do and in the evenings just to destress I do jigsaw puzzles, diamond paintings, blogging and journaling. I’ve taken on a new hobby: paint-by-number! A friend suggested it and I thought I’d be so clumsy I’d have paint all over the place but so far, so good! I’m thinking of latch hook and embroidery, too! While I do those things to destress, I listen to my audiobooks. I like the fictional detective/police/PI stories the best. I’ve ‘read’ some very entertaining/engrossing stories! It keeps my mind busy with something besides my troubles.

It’s time for me to get moving. It will take me a couple of hours to cook something for lunch (it sucks being disabled) and if I don’t fix something Dad won’t eat. Today on the menu: Chicken Fajita Salad Bowls. Wish me luck and thanks for reading my blog!