Over the Counter

Ever watch “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”? Toula’s large extended family reminds me so much of Roland’s side of the family - with a few minor differences.  They’re Hispanic, not Greek.  They are not devout to any particular religion. And instead of a fascintion with Windex, Roland’s mother swears by Vicks Vapor Rub.

 

Roland well remembers the taste of Vicks.  His mother would smother the inside of each of her children’s mouth.  There is a warning on today’s label NOT to do that.  I don’t know if it was there in Roland’s youth.

 

I do admit that I have also taken it internally – which I do not recommend.  But it really is the best throat medicine I’ve ever had.  I felt a tinge of excitement the first time I saw Vicks Vapor Syrup.  It is rare to see more than two bottles on the shelf – if at all.  It seems like there are only certain stores that carry it.

 

The taste is truly NASTY.  But it does work.  Well, it does for me.  Jenna says it doesn’t work on her.  There are a lot of medications that doesn’t seem to work on her and vice-versa. 

Over the counter drug Advil would work on Jenna.  I might as well take candy, as Advil does absolutely nothing for me.

The cough syrup that works best is Buckley’s.  Also nasty.  Their motto is: "It Tastes Awful. And It Works.".  Perhaps Canadians can find product in most of their stores.  Unfortunately it is not as easy to find among this American.  Why do stores always discontinue carrying products that work?

Two Weeks

 
Two weeks after I started my blog I became part of a search party who went out looking for mom who had dementia and had wandered from home.  She could not be left alone.  Each of us worked out a schedule so that someone would always be with her.

Two weeks after this year started mom was released from the hospital and spent her last night at the house she’d lived in for over fifty years. It had been on a Sunday when Ellen found my mom passed out and called for Nate to assist.  Patrick ended up taking her to the hospital.  He and Nate were both dressed for church but stayed at the hospital all day. They did not go to Church that day. Patrick had chosen to stay with mom. On Monday mom’s four children worked together to fill out the paperwork to move mom into assisted living. On Wednesday Kayla took mom to her new home at the assisted living facility – the last place she would live. And Corey came from Las Vegas to assist and say good-bye to the house. 

Two weeks ago we lay mom to rest - buried beside my dad.  She’d been rushed to the hospital two weeks prior to that.  It was on a Sunday when she was found passed out on the floor. She'd been rushed to the hospital. Patrick met her at there.   He was dressed for church but stayed at the hospital all day.  He did not go to Church that day.  He had chosen to stay with mom. He took the next two weeks off.  And Corey drove from Las Vegas to say good-bye.  We all spent time with her for 7-10 days.  And then she finally let go.

Two weeks ago Corey and Kayla and I met Fern and Michelle at the Mortuary.  We watched Corey and the Mortician dress my mom.  Michelle applied some lipstick – that’s all that was needed.  Mom looked like she always does when she falls asleep. She still has her purse.

Two weeks ago we talked with family and friends who had come to pay their last respects.  Sunny offered a beautiful prayer before we all went into the chapel. I tied mom’s bow and veiled her face – my final act of service for her.  The lid was closed.  I think Brian cried the hardest. His sobs just seemed louder than the rest - maybe because he's a giant.

 Two weeks ago today we paid our last respects and shared our stories and beautiful thoughts for such a marvelous woman.  Daddy’s birthday was the day after the farewell services.  It was on a Sunday. Corey had planned to spend this week with mom. Instead she's spending it with dad.  We miss you mom! (and dad)

Still Waiting

Kayla and Corey spent Thursday night at the hospital with mom.  And on Friday morning all of her children surrounded her and enjoyed conversation – especially when mom would laugh at just the right moment as though she was laughing at our jokes, but sometimes it just felt like she was really listening to someone outside of our presence.

Corey asked mom if she had a favorite hymn.  She responded that it was a secret. She must have been conversing with someone on the other side.  Perhaps a suggestion had been made: “They are planning your funeral.  Can you believe it?  We should just make your pulse count go higher.  You outlive the two weeks you’ve been given.  We’ll show them”

Mom was laughing. It would make for a great final memory.  Her pulse went up. She spends most of the day just sleeping.  We can get her to drink sometimes but she won’t eat anything.  Hospice designed for making loved ones as comfortable as possible.  She was not comfortable wearing the oxygen tube and so we had it removed. She looks quite peaceful when she’s sleeping. 

Some of our conversation went a bit like this (though mine and Corey’s words are actual, the others are imagined)

Me:       So how long are you staying

Corey:    I can stay indefinitely

Angel:    Did you hear that?

Mom:     Coery is such a good son.

Angel:     He said “indefinitely” Do you want to test him?

Mom (smiling): That would be kind funny.

Her pulse went up and they have moved her back to Alpine Ridge where she will spend her final days. It almost felt like a cruel joke - though a joke she would have never gone along with, as she has never been one to toy with people’s emotions.  It’s highly probably that Joh may have to return to Vegas before mom passes on.

It would not be a very nice thing if Corey stayed for thirty days or so and return to Las Vegas and then return for the funeral. Mom wanted to return to Alpine Ridge before she returns to dad.  I will take Jenna to Alpine Ridge this morning.

Waiting

Before Sunday

Mom was laughing,

she was walking

and dressing herself.

She was singing

on Thursday as Harold

accompanied on guitar.

Sometime between four and six

on Sunday morning

she got out of her chair. 

We don’t know why. 

She may have been headed

toward the bathroom. 

Or perhaps she could feel the

pain of a mild heart attack.

She was checked on at four. 

She was sleeping peacefully

in her chair.  But when

she was checked in on at six,

she was found on the floor. 

Her clothes were wet

with urine and perspiration.

She was loaded into

an ambulance and rushed

to the hospital.  Her legs

were badly swollen. 

She was diagnosed with

rhabdomyolysis  . 

The infection spread into

her legs and

kidneys and heart

probably.

She’d been hooked up

to machines and

needles and

was given cat scans,

an MRI,

a pick line and

an emergency surgery

on her legs. 

Her children felt so

helpless as I imagine

the doctors did too. 

Everybody did his or her job

best to his or her ability. 

We learned that her

kidneys had failed and that

she would need dialysis

and at least one of her legs

would have to be amputated.

On Wednesday two children stayed

the night at the hospital

so that she wouldn’t be alone.

On Thursday

we spent the day waiting –

waiting for the doctors to come,

waiting for Corey to arrive,

waiting to be moved

to a bigger room.

Mom had lots of visitors. 

A Lot. There was

the Relief Society Presidency,

Ross and Fern,

Peggy and George,

the bishop

and Harold.

Hunched over Harold.  

Sharply dressed –

wanting to spend time

with his lady friend.

Sunny and Fern called him

an angel.  And he is. 

Jenna made a card for Harold

who has been beside himself

since he learned

that the ambulance

had taken mom away.

She might never return

to the assisted living

facility.  She may die

at the hospital.

The doctor came and

explained about hospice. 

Mom was moved

to a bigger room. 

Corey arrived

and is spending the night

with her

at the hospital.

Now we are waiting

for dad to escort mom home. 

It’s time already. 

It is somewhat freaky

how quickly it happened. 

A week ago she was active. 

Now she is in bed. 

And we’re still waiting. 

                                                                                     kfralc

Labor Day Weekend Roller Coaster

We had planned on attending the Walden Family Reunion on Labor Day weekend.  Or at least I was.  Soon it was narrowed down to only Biff, Jenna and I as Roland said he would be working and although Randy had made arrangements to get time off from his previous job, he recently started another job which he would be working sometime during Labor Day weekend (though I think he could have gone to part of the reunion but chose not to I guess)

So Friday Jenna gets in the car with this years fundraiser for the school.  $30 for a coupon book – or the idea of a coupon book with an actual card that you will use instead of the coupons?  It looks like a catalog of jumbled ideas thrown together and is actually harder to go through than sorting out the thoughts in my head (and that is saying A LOT!) 

Jenna gets upset about every fundraiser – not for the same reasons that I get upset – never mind that no one we know has any money and that every other school is having a fundraiser as well.  No one should feel a sense of pressure – though Jenna seems to more with every passing year. 

I don’t even know what the incentive is for “selling” the merchandise – usually something not that great – though there was the drawing for an IPod that one year – and she was the winner.  I told her that it is highly doubtful that she will win every year.

And I don’t try to discourage her from going out and selling if that’s truly what she wants to do.  But she needs to take daddy who is a salesman by nature and who can help her understand the rejection.  Our neighborhood is definitely NOT the area to promote fund raisers.  Half the people I know are either on welfare or barely scraping by.  The other half don’t have time to look through a cluttered catalog to see if a $30 investment is really worth the gamble – not to mention just cannot afford each charity associated with the 8-12 schools that the neighborhood children attend.

So then Jenna starts feeling bad because “nobody will buy” even though I have been upfront with her about why they don’t.  But a fund raiser shouldn’t make anyone feel put out, or ornery or guilty or any of that.  A child should not have to feel the frustration or pain of rejection or look at the fund raiser as a serious assignment.  Life is not a contest of earning points for causes that, even though you might believe in them, make the individual who is really trying, feel worthless because he or she doesn’t feel like they’ve been given a fair shake at getting the prizes (wow.  That sounds like an analogy for obedience to commandments and having to stay on the outside of the temple instead of getting to see your loved ones marry due to choices made even at the Lord’s will or age – something that can’t be controlled.  Ah – but let’s save that for another post.  Perhaps Corey may read this and run with it.  I hope so.  I love reading his blog for the most part.  His posts are so eloquently written)

The bishop had gone out of town the two weeks prior, giving Roland the opportunity of playing bishop for the last two Sundays.  He received three phone calls about three different deaths – two would hold funerals in our ward building.

On Friday night Roland and I went to the temple and Parker’s mom and dad watched Jenna.  Turns out Roland did not work on the last day of August as he had anticipated. He conducted the second of the two funerals and I watched Parker and Jenna – apparently not with a close enough eye.

On Saturday morning we met Parker and his dad at the garden. That evening I packed up the two kids and went over to the trailer park to meet some friends for their monthly game of “Bingo”.  Roland went with us once.  For the most part he doesn’t seem to enjoy it.  And he has been quite tired for the most part.  Work and work and no play.  No happy balance.

 Parker’s dad picked him up before we had even started the first game.  Oh, too bad. He was perturbed that he wouldn’t have more time with Jenna.  Gee, I’m sorry Parker.  Usually nine hours is too long between friends of your age group.

There’s always a lot of laughs and fun with the neighbors on Bingo night.  Jenna was the first one to win a prize – a velvet art project for a 3-D castle.  Neither Roger nor Gloria wanted their prizes and pawned them off on me. Jenna and I always have to leave before the sun goes down so that I can see to drive home at night.

Sunday morning I turned my phone on – which is unusual.  I normally don’t have it on during the weekend.  Immediately after I received the signal to let me know that the phone was on and battery ready, Sunny called to see if I had heard about mom.  She’s back in the hospital.  It was on a Sunday at the beginning of this year. 

It was my week to give the lesson is Sunday School but felt inspired to call a substitute at the last minute (and I do last minute – like when Relief Society ended) and took Jenna out of primary and went to the hospital where Patrick was seated in a chair and mom was in bed looking bewildered.  As with the first time in January, she had no idea why she was there or how she arrived.

Jenna and I had been there for almost three hours.  We left after Patrick and Nate gave her a blessing.  Roland had just barely beaten us home. 

We were home for only a couple of hours before we left the house and headed toward where Randy and Carrie live.  They had invited us for dinner.  We were in charge of dessert.  We remembered to take the dessert, but we forgot to eat it.  

Carrie gave us some peach jam.  We forgot to take it home. 

Jenna and I will return to the hospital this morning.  She wants to give mom the velvet castle she made.

Two More Poems

Whenever the Wind Blows

When I fall asleep

I sleep quite hard

Whenever the wind blows

Slumber invites me

Into worlds beyond this one

When I fall asleep

My eyelids become heavy

My thoughts are put on hold

Whenever the wind blows

My husband can’t believe

How quickly I drift off
When I fall asleep

How the trees dance

And leaves often fall

Whenever the wind blows

There’s a calm cool breeze

That surrounds me but I miss it

When I fall asleep

Whenever the wind blows

                       

                                                                   

                                                            kfralc

Assisted Living

Harold

Bent over

Kissing

June

June

Kissing

Bent over

Harold

                                                            kfralc

  

I Know I'm Alive, For There is Much Pain

When we first moved into the ward, our ward had been assigned to clean the building the last four months during the year.  It was finally changed to every third month – which is what I thought should be done all along.  But who am I?

Before we left the house, I took something for my allergies, as I knew we’d be going to the garden, which would probably make my sneezing act out even more. Usually our family is there at least three or four Saturdays to assist.  When we arrived yesterday, I figured it was the Elder’s Quorum that was in charge, as there were doughnuts, juice and chocolate milk to reward the cleaners afterwards. 

Jenna handed me a vacuum cleaner and told me that “we” were going to vacuum. “I” started out with the Relief Society room and then worked my way to the nursery and then the primary room.  I didn’t have to get any of the rooms on the other side of the chapel as I was told somebody else took care of that.

The vacuum cleaner isn’t that heavy.  But I am out of shape. I felt like I was going to die.

After doughnuts, we made our way to the community garden.  The sun was beating down on us – though few seemed to notice.  I don’t understand how they could not notice.

We raked up many of the weeds that had developed over the last two weeks. They were short enough that I could actually tell them apart from the plants.  But after bending down in the hot sun, I felt like I was going to die.

Came home to change so that we could attend a baptism (Roland was conducting) it’s all I could do to stay awake.  When the baptism was over we went home.  I took a three-hour nap.

We still had our own garden.  Waited for the sun and Roland decided to start on another project.  We could have tackled that after I got up.  Still not done with “his” projects.  And I still feel like I’m going to die.