February 18, 2016

It’s amazing what can get done if you just do it.

Thank you, Captain Obvious, but it isn’t always that simple. Does anyone else give names to their inner voices, or is it only me? Just because all those voices are indeed mine, it doesn’t mean they always agree. How’s it go…Roses are red, Violets are shy, I’m schizophrenic…and so am I. It was a full day, but a lot was accomplished. Mom was up fairly early, so I didn’t have to try and wake her. After breakfast I had a nice uninterrupted bath, and an early check-in for the weekly radio exercise. Mom looked adorable in the purple jogging suit my sister gave her. With a teal top underneath, she looked like a jewel. I tucked blankets around chewed-on areas of the backseat, then loaded the dogs and sparkly Mom into the car, and off we went. I hadn’t packed any goodies for the trip, planning on grabbing coffee and donuts on the way. Newton, of course, was munching on something in the backseat, most likely the seat itself. Turning to once again beg him not to eat the car, I missed the turn to the donut place. Mom didn’t complain though, and we traveled through the mists and rain without any major incidents. I don’t mind the long trip up the Peninsula to Port Angeles. The road winds around bays and mountains, and the scenery is much nicer than on the trip to Silverdale. The Olympic Peninsula is a not-so-secret treasure in the Pacific Northwest, a crowning jewel for the Emerald City of Seattle.

An hour is a long way to drive for a five minute blood draw. They are now testing me for iron; B-12, Folate, and another CBC. (Complete Blood Panel) They want to figure out why I’m anemic. The also gave me a kit for testing stool for colorectal cancer. As she handed me the kit she said, “Here you go, your chance to give the VA some shit.” You might think of a governmental bureaucracy as being humorless, but a lot of us know that it’s a circus filled with clowns. A sense of humor and a firm grasp of ironic sarcasm are essential survival gear, if you think like a real human. Having forgotten earlier, I stopped at a nursery and ordered some plants, to be picked up in the afternoon, and then we wound our way home. We had just enough time to eat lunch before J came for her shift, and when she did, me and the boys hopped in the car and went back, to pick up the plants. On the way, I got calls from the schedulers for the oral surgeon and the cataract surgery, but of course I couldn’t look at my calendar and drive. When the dogs and I returned home, I made those calls and got Mom an appointment to see her doctor.

I’ve put that one off, I guess hoping that something would change and it wouldn’t have to happen. Now I need to compose a letter for him outlining our concerns and the decision to move Mom. The voice I think of as Asshole now pipes up with, Don’t you mean get rid of her, echoing recent accusations. Even though in my heart I know she didn’t really mean those things, they have taken up residence in my head, popping up with doleful randomness. . And now the voice I always associate with my father chimes in, You’ll never be good enough. Frack. It’s like a pity party in my head today, starring Guilt, who I always imagine in a shiny silk suit with the sibilant voice of a snake-charming, but venomous. All I need now is for Mom to say ”I’ve got nobody to talk to”, and I will want to flagellate myself. Wow. I think the best course of action today would be to keep my head down and my hands on the keyboard, away from sharp things. In the meantime, I will try to turn my brain around, and concentrate on the good things. It’s only clouds…the sun is still there.


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