Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey, Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils, Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity, How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how. Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze, Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue,
morning field of amber grain, Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity, How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how. Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you, But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do. But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls, Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose, Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity, How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...
............ (Don McLean)
I think that is the most beautiful piece of lyrical poetry ever to grace the airwaves.
American pie made him rich and famous but *Vincent* is truly his masterpiece.
Vincent's last words.
"La tristesse durera." (the sadness will never go away)
I understand this completely.
COMPLETELY.
Absolutely completely.
-----------
25.6.05
Make way
Tomorrow is our event.
I get to dress up and stand on stage just like the olde days.
I get to be in the bigtime theatre, all dressed up with the audience hanging on my every word.
OF course they are hanging... I have them captive. Haha.
It is nothing really. Not even enough to get my name on the damned programme.
I am not as excited about it this year as I was last.
It is true, I miss the stage terribly. I know that I could, in a sweet second, be back there.
But I am no longer the pretty young ingenue. I am not even the attractive comedienne.
I might possibly make the character actress supporting role, but...
We have our traditions. We would do this or that on opening night.
We would never ever be alone. I do not think I ever was alone.
It seems so odd to be on such a wonderful stage. For what?
I cannot explain this one.
Never once when I was playing or singing did I ever invite family. Never once.
Never once did I ever use my real name. Never once.
Now I still have that urge to perform but as myself for a change.
And it is past time for me.
----
I get to dress up and stand on stage just like the olde days.
I get to be in the bigtime theatre, all dressed up with the audience hanging on my every word.
OF course they are hanging... I have them captive. Haha.
It is nothing really. Not even enough to get my name on the damned programme.
I am not as excited about it this year as I was last.
It is true, I miss the stage terribly. I know that I could, in a sweet second, be back there.
But I am no longer the pretty young ingenue. I am not even the attractive comedienne.
I might possibly make the character actress supporting role, but...
We have our traditions. We would do this or that on opening night.
We would never ever be alone. I do not think I ever was alone.
It seems so odd to be on such a wonderful stage. For what?
I cannot explain this one.
Never once when I was playing or singing did I ever invite family. Never once.
Never once did I ever use my real name. Never once.
Now I still have that urge to perform but as myself for a change.
And it is past time for me.
----
21.6.05
Lightning and rain, fear and trepidation
The day went well. Care and meds and a little education. I was gratified to see that component added to our Team Meetings so aptly. Education on a continuing basis is essential to all Medical Team Members from Doctors down to Janitors.
It was to be a lovely evening spent looking at etchings.
Calling to confim, my bubble was burst-- no etchings tonight.
That is not the only thing that burst. I got on the highway to come back to KaeVille and no sooner had I set the Cruise Control at 110kms than the heavens opened and sheets upon sheets of rain spilled down. The road was like ice within seconds.
Overhead, a bolt of lightning forked down to the treetops nearby and I began deep breathing.
Taking my cruise control off, and letting the car slow down naturally seemed the safest course. Slowing to 40khm on the Highway, absolutely noone passed me. Most of the traffic was pulling off to the side. It was unbelievable how intense this storm was. And sudden.
It is scary to be caught out and about when nature unleashes a surprise.
They don't pay me enough to drive in those conditions.
Nor anyone at all.
----------
It was to be a lovely evening spent looking at etchings.
Calling to confim, my bubble was burst-- no etchings tonight.
That is not the only thing that burst. I got on the highway to come back to KaeVille and no sooner had I set the Cruise Control at 110kms than the heavens opened and sheets upon sheets of rain spilled down. The road was like ice within seconds.
Overhead, a bolt of lightning forked down to the treetops nearby and I began deep breathing.
Taking my cruise control off, and letting the car slow down naturally seemed the safest course. Slowing to 40khm on the Highway, absolutely noone passed me. Most of the traffic was pulling off to the side. It was unbelievable how intense this storm was. And sudden.
It is scary to be caught out and about when nature unleashes a surprise.
They don't pay me enough to drive in those conditions.
Nor anyone at all.
----------
20.6.05
(a) Musing
Scrapbooking. I love it.
Some of the most fun I have had over the last few years has been at scrapbooking workshops.
What a hoot!
Sound as dull as dishwater?
Last time my favourite line was uttered by the new Bishop's wife.
As the tunz spun round a jazzy number came on.
"Is this Billy Joel?" she said. "Or Cher?"
-----------
Mr. Home Alone at 94 is a pretty fun fella too.
Today he looked alot better and stronger than last week when he kept insisting he was fine.
I got all the goods on the rich and famous of our Village circa 1950.
Some of it was really good! Wish I could name names and amuse you too, but that, dear reader, would be scandalous. Trust me, my jaw dropped.
We went on to the topic of his health and stamina.
"O I feel about strong enough to knock the skin off a rice pudding."
Hah! Wait til he meets the Bishop's wife. Now that would be a pair to take to luncheon.
Gotta love being alive and well in Paradise.
------
Some of the most fun I have had over the last few years has been at scrapbooking workshops.
What a hoot!
Sound as dull as dishwater?
Last time my favourite line was uttered by the new Bishop's wife.
As the tunz spun round a jazzy number came on.
"Is this Billy Joel?" she said. "Or Cher?"
-----------
Mr. Home Alone at 94 is a pretty fun fella too.
Today he looked alot better and stronger than last week when he kept insisting he was fine.
I got all the goods on the rich and famous of our Village circa 1950.
Some of it was really good! Wish I could name names and amuse you too, but that, dear reader, would be scandalous. Trust me, my jaw dropped.
We went on to the topic of his health and stamina.
"O I feel about strong enough to knock the skin off a rice pudding."
Hah! Wait til he meets the Bishop's wife. Now that would be a pair to take to luncheon.
Gotta love being alive and well in Paradise.
------
17.6.05
"Surely you can see, I require much much more!"
A failing client went limp in my arms. Her pulse was weak, and her breathing the tell-tale stop-stop-deep sighing of those near death. Repositioning her on her pillows, brushing back her hair I excused myself to the family and left the home. It was their time.
The next stop was Our Lady of the Chronic Complaints. She was annoyed that day. Very annoyed indeed that we would insist upon using transfer belts to get her up or put her back to bed. She is so tiny, she just could not fathom that we would or could be harmed by a repetitive strain injury brought on by someone who refuses a safe transfer.
"Just try it my way this last time. Please?"
--- sucker----
Her way is to lean far over her bed where she is lurching in an unusual position, absolutely remembering not to touch her until she is ready. Then, upon her queue and only upon her queue, she requests to be held by the outside of her pants. Firmly, but not allowing your hands to come into contact with her body whatsoever. She will slowly, very slowly make her way over to the edge of the bed all the while chastening and reminding not to let go of her.
When at the edge of the bed, she wishes to be assisted to a standing position. This involves you bending over at an awkward angle, an unsafe angle, continuing to hold firmly onto her pants. "Your knuckles are bruising my ribs!" she shouts. My knuckles are facing outwards not inwards, but still she shouts.
She stands, Oh surprise she is not weight bearing.
Then you quickly position her into the wheelchair and of course she shouts about not being ready and how it was too fast. You now, most likely, have incurred a strain injury.
I reported and reported and documented and finally the edict came down:
No transfers at all to be done without the belt on. She is to put her own transfer belt on.
I told the Therapist: "I will believe it when I see it."
She tried again the next time I saw her. I got the belt and laid it across her wheelchair.
"Oh you are not using that are you?"
"Yes."
"I only agreed to it because *they* said you girls are not covered by compensation unless you use it."
"Yes."
"I am so tiny. Surely you girls can see how you hurt me when you mishandle me."
---silence from me
"Surely, you can see I require MUCH more care than most of your patients. Don't you speak with the Office?"
"Yes."
"Well you need to tell them I am not an ordinary client. I need MUCH more care than most."
She did not get up that day.
The next client I went to was a medication reminder, cancer drugs.
The client is getting minimal service, lives alone, and could do with alot more assistance through the disease process. Sadly, this client does not get the help.
-------
The next stop was Our Lady of the Chronic Complaints. She was annoyed that day. Very annoyed indeed that we would insist upon using transfer belts to get her up or put her back to bed. She is so tiny, she just could not fathom that we would or could be harmed by a repetitive strain injury brought on by someone who refuses a safe transfer.
"Just try it my way this last time. Please?"
--- sucker----
Her way is to lean far over her bed where she is lurching in an unusual position, absolutely remembering not to touch her until she is ready. Then, upon her queue and only upon her queue, she requests to be held by the outside of her pants. Firmly, but not allowing your hands to come into contact with her body whatsoever. She will slowly, very slowly make her way over to the edge of the bed all the while chastening and reminding not to let go of her.
When at the edge of the bed, she wishes to be assisted to a standing position. This involves you bending over at an awkward angle, an unsafe angle, continuing to hold firmly onto her pants. "Your knuckles are bruising my ribs!" she shouts. My knuckles are facing outwards not inwards, but still she shouts.
She stands, Oh surprise she is not weight bearing.
Then you quickly position her into the wheelchair and of course she shouts about not being ready and how it was too fast. You now, most likely, have incurred a strain injury.
I reported and reported and documented and finally the edict came down:
No transfers at all to be done without the belt on. She is to put her own transfer belt on.
I told the Therapist: "I will believe it when I see it."
She tried again the next time I saw her. I got the belt and laid it across her wheelchair.
"Oh you are not using that are you?"
"Yes."
"I only agreed to it because *they* said you girls are not covered by compensation unless you use it."
"Yes."
"I am so tiny. Surely you girls can see how you hurt me when you mishandle me."
---silence from me
"Surely, you can see I require MUCH more care than most of your patients. Don't you speak with the Office?"
"Yes."
"Well you need to tell them I am not an ordinary client. I need MUCH more care than most."
She did not get up that day.
The next client I went to was a medication reminder, cancer drugs.
The client is getting minimal service, lives alone, and could do with alot more assistance through the disease process. Sadly, this client does not get the help.
-------
14.6.05
Company's Comin!
One of the BIG FAT FREAKING DRAGS of living in Paradise is the seasonal influx of visitors.
It is even more obnoxious when you live in a small place and your neighbours get company.
Next door on one side I have a very quiet Lady in her retirement years. She is always hoping this is the year I finally do something about my patio deck which resembles a dumptruck load of glittery shiny things. One the other side I have another older Lady who is not as quiet but she also is not resident all year. She is a coool oh so cool woman but damn she gets the LOUDEST company.
This week, around 6 people are staying with her. The stairs thump thump thump the walls vibrate and worst of all the door slams almost on the hour. HMMM on the hour... hmm hmm
I know! I will set my clocks and wind them all.
YA baby! Vacation on this!
Hey now, some of us have to work.
Some of us get up at 4:30am.
Summertime has not yet begun. Maybe they wont stay long.
*cross*
-----------
It is even more obnoxious when you live in a small place and your neighbours get company.
Next door on one side I have a very quiet Lady in her retirement years. She is always hoping this is the year I finally do something about my patio deck which resembles a dumptruck load of glittery shiny things. One the other side I have another older Lady who is not as quiet but she also is not resident all year. She is a coool oh so cool woman but damn she gets the LOUDEST company.
This week, around 6 people are staying with her. The stairs thump thump thump the walls vibrate and worst of all the door slams almost on the hour. HMMM on the hour... hmm hmm
I know! I will set my clocks and wind them all.
YA baby! Vacation on this!
Hey now, some of us have to work.
Some of us get up at 4:30am.
Summertime has not yet begun. Maybe they wont stay long.
*cross*
-----------
12.6.05
I tot a saw a bunny wabbit
Its white and fluffy and lived in the greenery surrounding my wee place.
It looks just like the killer rabbit in Monty Python and the Holy Grail so I am not getting involved with it. My dog might be though.
I was thinking about this rabid beast as I went my way up the winding road to the Lake.
I had something in my peripheral vision and I slowed right down to see what it was.
Again, I saw an Eagle, prey in its talons, trying to achieve lift-off. I slowed to 20 mph and the Eagle slowly gained altitude enough to fly over the car. The rabbit looked wide-eyed as its feet brushed against my hood. He was on his way to dinner.
I am so thankful to be at the top of the Food Chain. Don't think I would enjoy a flight like that.
---------
It looks just like the killer rabbit in Monty Python and the Holy Grail so I am not getting involved with it. My dog might be though.
I was thinking about this rabid beast as I went my way up the winding road to the Lake.
I had something in my peripheral vision and I slowed right down to see what it was.
Again, I saw an Eagle, prey in its talons, trying to achieve lift-off. I slowed to 20 mph and the Eagle slowly gained altitude enough to fly over the car. The rabbit looked wide-eyed as its feet brushed against my hood. He was on his way to dinner.
I am so thankful to be at the top of the Food Chain. Don't think I would enjoy a flight like that.
---------
10.6.05
Credit in the Straight World
I got Junebugs busting out ALL OVER! (cue Ethel Merman)
So many things going on in the Carelane.
SO much to tell. So little time to tell it.
-----
How about this one:
He is 96 and was just released home from gastric surgery after colon cancer.
He is very independant and was miffed that the Hospital would not release him without the committment to Home visitations. I waltzed in on the weekend to find him sitting at his dining room table playing what looked to be one deadly game of cribbage.
He whopped me. 3 times in a row. And I am a very excellent cribbage player myself.
But 96 years of practise tends to trump all.
Damn decent!!
------------
Fifteen two, fifteen four, fifteen six and the rest don't mix!
So many things going on in the Carelane.
SO much to tell. So little time to tell it.
-----
How about this one:
He is 96 and was just released home from gastric surgery after colon cancer.
He is very independant and was miffed that the Hospital would not release him without the committment to Home visitations. I waltzed in on the weekend to find him sitting at his dining room table playing what looked to be one deadly game of cribbage.
He whopped me. 3 times in a row. And I am a very excellent cribbage player myself.
But 96 years of practise tends to trump all.
Damn decent!!
------------
Fifteen two, fifteen four, fifteen six and the rest don't mix!
6.6.05
"Maybe next time, you will think before you report"
Yes. That was said to me today.
By a person who saw the same things I saw.
"You make more trouble than it's worth by reporting."
-------------**********------------------
I could say more and more but I am too choked.
It is just really annoying.
HMPH.
By a person who saw the same things I saw.
"You make more trouble than it's worth by reporting."
-------------**********------------------
I could say more and more but I am too choked.
It is just really annoying.
HMPH.
June
Warm but not hot. Breezy but not blowsy.
I love June when it comes in this way.
It was a calm clear day in the carelane today.
ABOUT BLOODY TIME!
One sad addition to my client list was a person who was dying as I visited.
It is hard when you are an intruder really, into the home and you see imminent end of life signs. I just did my thing and left; my thing being really excellent care.
The Office called and added this client for tomorrow and Wed-friday
I told them I was happy to take the addition but I doubted the client would be alive.
Such is the way of things.
We sometimes come in just at the End.
--roll credits--
------------
I love June when it comes in this way.
It was a calm clear day in the carelane today.
ABOUT BLOODY TIME!
One sad addition to my client list was a person who was dying as I visited.
It is hard when you are an intruder really, into the home and you see imminent end of life signs. I just did my thing and left; my thing being really excellent care.
The Office called and added this client for tomorrow and Wed-friday
I told them I was happy to take the addition but I doubted the client would be alive.
Such is the way of things.
We sometimes come in just at the End.
--roll credits--
------------
5.6.05
To be adored
Adorned is more my style.
It would be nice to be adored though.
Knowing me, I would be bored immediatly and whine about being challenged.
Who is this woman living in my head these days? She is so strange.
--------
http://postsecret.blogspot.com/
It would be nice to be adored though.
Knowing me, I would be bored immediatly and whine about being challenged.
Who is this woman living in my head these days? She is so strange.
--------
http://postsecret.blogspot.com/
Something is amiss in Arda
The best way I know of to blow off a bad week is to log on my favourite rpg and kill orcs.
Now that may seem odd, I realise this, but if you have not tried it, don't knock it.
Every valid solution comes with it's own unique set of challenges and slaughtering orcs is no different.
What do you think the average age of a gamer is? Alot of people would assume it is around 13-14. I am certainly nowhere close to that age even if you triple it. And I am not alone.
It is annoying to walk in a world of beauty alongside the willingly blind. It is irritating to listen to hormonally raging players of all ages and gender gloating on about who they killed and how. I see it as math. All of it. There are formulas for everything. No player is better than any other, just more adept at typing formulas. I could give a shit about that as far as glorification goes, but the majority care deeply. I do not think it is about self-esteem, or acceptance, I think it is just real basic adrenal satisfaction.
Having survived decades with a major adrenal disorder, the last thing I need to prove to myself is that I can spin fast. It is the slow dances I want to learn. I love to savour the idea of being in the Shire, pipe in hand, pondering my long and boring geneology. I do not mind venturing outside of my hobbity hole but I really only want to steal shiny things and waylay the stupidest orcs. I am smart enough to realise that a hobbit is not going to win through might nor valour, but through sheer obstinance.
Alas, no orcs today. Something is amiss in Arda.
Damn.
------------
Now that may seem odd, I realise this, but if you have not tried it, don't knock it.
Every valid solution comes with it's own unique set of challenges and slaughtering orcs is no different.
What do you think the average age of a gamer is? Alot of people would assume it is around 13-14. I am certainly nowhere close to that age even if you triple it. And I am not alone.
It is annoying to walk in a world of beauty alongside the willingly blind. It is irritating to listen to hormonally raging players of all ages and gender gloating on about who they killed and how. I see it as math. All of it. There are formulas for everything. No player is better than any other, just more adept at typing formulas. I could give a shit about that as far as glorification goes, but the majority care deeply. I do not think it is about self-esteem, or acceptance, I think it is just real basic adrenal satisfaction.
Having survived decades with a major adrenal disorder, the last thing I need to prove to myself is that I can spin fast. It is the slow dances I want to learn. I love to savour the idea of being in the Shire, pipe in hand, pondering my long and boring geneology. I do not mind venturing outside of my hobbity hole but I really only want to steal shiny things and waylay the stupidest orcs. I am smart enough to realise that a hobbit is not going to win through might nor valour, but through sheer obstinance.
Alas, no orcs today. Something is amiss in Arda.
Damn.
------------
3.6.05
Through the Looking-Glass
Curiouser and curiouser.
Perhaps I am hampered by too much education. I see things that are reportable and I report them. My definitions are mandated by the employers rules. Perception is not that large a factor; or so I thought.
Walking into a situation where two people who live together are out of control, I assess the danger to myself before acting. One of the two people is the client. The other person gets verbally aggressive and does measures of control we would not under any circumstances be able to justify. Do I overlook it? Just a bad day?
No. I cannot overlook it. But my co-workers can.
Then it becomes MY problem as the only person who feels a situation is unstable.
If I behaved in a manner close to what I witnessed, I would pray that everyone would report me. It would mean I was so far out of control that my future held only rage and despair.
Improper restraint. Verbal threats. Physical punishment. Anger anger anger. Meds delivered through choking. Pain and despair. Loss and grief.
My employer let me down on this one.
Oh, they followed up on the report, but neglected to advise me they had visited in a heavy-handed manner and sent me back there the very next day. A cool reception. A very cool reception.
It is hard having values that are so set.
I have known many people in varying stages of profound grief and loss. My knowledge-base is about a thousand times what my co-workers is through the combination of age and experience and training to work in crisis situations albeit a different field.
I am about as popular as the Plague right now.
Wonderland every day. Oh well.
Perhaps I too will wake under a tree hugging my cat.
-------------------------
Perhaps I am hampered by too much education. I see things that are reportable and I report them. My definitions are mandated by the employers rules. Perception is not that large a factor; or so I thought.
Walking into a situation where two people who live together are out of control, I assess the danger to myself before acting. One of the two people is the client. The other person gets verbally aggressive and does measures of control we would not under any circumstances be able to justify. Do I overlook it? Just a bad day?
No. I cannot overlook it. But my co-workers can.
Then it becomes MY problem as the only person who feels a situation is unstable.
If I behaved in a manner close to what I witnessed, I would pray that everyone would report me. It would mean I was so far out of control that my future held only rage and despair.
Improper restraint. Verbal threats. Physical punishment. Anger anger anger. Meds delivered through choking. Pain and despair. Loss and grief.
My employer let me down on this one.
Oh, they followed up on the report, but neglected to advise me they had visited in a heavy-handed manner and sent me back there the very next day. A cool reception. A very cool reception.
It is hard having values that are so set.
I have known many people in varying stages of profound grief and loss. My knowledge-base is about a thousand times what my co-workers is through the combination of age and experience and training to work in crisis situations albeit a different field.
I am about as popular as the Plague right now.
Wonderland every day. Oh well.
Perhaps I too will wake under a tree hugging my cat.
-------------------------
30.5.05
--------> clocked!!
I got clocked today.
It was a bad day in the carelane.
Too fresh to talk about it.
Nothing can be done for these sorts of things. While restraining a client so that he could not punch my co-worker he swung backwards and took my chest a notch out with his elbow.
Ouch.
-------------
It was a bad day in the carelane.
Too fresh to talk about it.
Nothing can be done for these sorts of things. While restraining a client so that he could not punch my co-worker he swung backwards and took my chest a notch out with his elbow.
Ouch.
-------------
29.5.05
Creating a sanctuary
Sanctuary from the big bad world is what my home is. My heart is my home, but my living quarters are the dwelling we all take refuge to.
Each day is a delicate balance of energy spent and rejuvenation received. As a natural introvert, speaking and interacting with people leaves me tired, not energised as an extrovert would find. Because I have dedicated huge amounts of time to attempting to fit in the "societal parameters of acceptability", I appear to be extremely extroverted. People laugh out loud when I tell them I am shy and introverted. A huge joke for us all to enjoy. I certainly could have made a fabulous living as an Actress; in fact I almost did. Thank God that I understood the trade-off of fame for money is unacceptable to me. I would be dead, most likely by my own hand and people would be scoffing at how stupid someone who had it all could be to end so foolishly.
Alone time is sacred to me. The only people who seem to dismiss this need of mine are my own family. Typical. The telephones go unanswered, the door unopened. Alone time is me and my sacred space, meditating and replenishing my spirit. I love my home.
A little gilt here, a glimmer there, and a whole lot of scented flickering space.
Home, sweet home.
I loves ya.
============
Each day is a delicate balance of energy spent and rejuvenation received. As a natural introvert, speaking and interacting with people leaves me tired, not energised as an extrovert would find. Because I have dedicated huge amounts of time to attempting to fit in the "societal parameters of acceptability", I appear to be extremely extroverted. People laugh out loud when I tell them I am shy and introverted. A huge joke for us all to enjoy. I certainly could have made a fabulous living as an Actress; in fact I almost did. Thank God that I understood the trade-off of fame for money is unacceptable to me. I would be dead, most likely by my own hand and people would be scoffing at how stupid someone who had it all could be to end so foolishly.
Alone time is sacred to me. The only people who seem to dismiss this need of mine are my own family. Typical. The telephones go unanswered, the door unopened. Alone time is me and my sacred space, meditating and replenishing my spirit. I love my home.
A little gilt here, a glimmer there, and a whole lot of scented flickering space.
Home, sweet home.
I loves ya.
============
"You done alot of good work today"
Who but the Sunday client would soil the bed moments before my departure and ask demurely: "I am not sure but I think the bed might be wet. Is it wet?"
An hour and 15 minutes is not enough I suppose to adequately perform the dramas. Oh, I take that back. It is enough time, it is just that on Sundays I am sent at a time that does not meet with her approval. Knowing I have somewhere else to go, she makes a point of doing some unsafe thing at the critical time forcing my time to go over. In the past I would zoom around and finish everything, and not bill for the time. No more.
I changed the bed with her in it. Not as hard as you might think but made harder by her inability to take direction. She must have seen in my countenance my displeasure. She actually thanked me with the title's words as I left.
I do not dislike her as a person. I do not disagree that she needs alot of care. I do, however, question whether it should be administered on the Government nickle. Or is it nickel?
The older I get, the less I enforce my once exceptionally fine spelling and grammar habits.
This must be wisdom at last.
HAH!
===========
An hour and 15 minutes is not enough I suppose to adequately perform the dramas. Oh, I take that back. It is enough time, it is just that on Sundays I am sent at a time that does not meet with her approval. Knowing I have somewhere else to go, she makes a point of doing some unsafe thing at the critical time forcing my time to go over. In the past I would zoom around and finish everything, and not bill for the time. No more.
I changed the bed with her in it. Not as hard as you might think but made harder by her inability to take direction. She must have seen in my countenance my displeasure. She actually thanked me with the title's words as I left.
I do not dislike her as a person. I do not disagree that she needs alot of care. I do, however, question whether it should be administered on the Government nickle. Or is it nickel?
The older I get, the less I enforce my once exceptionally fine spelling and grammar habits.
This must be wisdom at last.
HAH!
===========
27.5.05
~* nice man stuff *~
Not one but a few dates later I can tell you, oh faithful reader there are still nice men out there.
Never one to use real names here comes one at ya now.
Mr. Jay. He is one fine soul on God's earth.
--------
Never one to use real names here comes one at ya now.
Mr. Jay. He is one fine soul on God's earth.
--------
The House-Ec-er
When she told me she was a house-ec-er I immediatly understood the reason.
Home-Ec-er is a touch close to an expression for quite another sort of woman.
Reading her obituary today, I was thankful she made more than the month they gave her.
Witty, wise and warm, she was a kind and decent person.
Goodbye little M.
Thanks for the tea.
---------
Home-Ec-er is a touch close to an expression for quite another sort of woman.
Reading her obituary today, I was thankful she made more than the month they gave her.
Witty, wise and warm, she was a kind and decent person.
Goodbye little M.
Thanks for the tea.
---------
26.5.05
"oh and Harmony do you mind cats?"
Just a little question: "Do you mind cats?"
hmm.... the telephone had rung at a clients whilst I was petting a cat who no doubt smelled the last cat on my pantslegs. In fact, every client that day had a cat or 5. It was a curious question.
As I am impaired by asthma and allergies, I supposed this might be a home where the cats had free run everywhere with possible unfortunate results.
The door was open so in I went. This home was about as far from the Office as we go. I was rather surprised to be sent there but I aint the brain... just the hands. And really, it is all about senority and hours. Don't ever think otherwise. So in I go way out along the waterfront three little towns up, and as soon as I got inside I took my puffer out and inhaled one long breath of ventolin.
A gentleman rushed down the stairs, red-faced and harried looking.
"Oh I am so embaressed, I tried to get organised for you... "
The purpose of this visit was obstensively for the gent to get some time out of the home. I was there to be with the Lady of the house. For four hours. She had other ideas. Like me leaving immediatly.
There is always a moment where you can decide to do "what you are supposed to do" or, if you are a halfway decent person, you can opt to do what needs to be done. After she got her shouting out of her system I just asked the gent to keep her busy and I went into SST mode.
In my entire life, I do not think I have *ever* worked that hard that fast.
Yes, I know I did not go to college to be a cleaner. I know it is not in the "rules" but it was either clean it up or leave. Noone else in that home could do it. Two vacuum bags later, the downstairs was livable.
Damn cats.
I got upstairs by asking the gent to tell his Lady the Doctor said I had to come. She settled down after that and even tried to tip me. hee hee.
It is something I really do understand.
Once upon a time for many long years this proud Lady ruled that roost.
"I call her "The Dictator" he said.
Her vision has failed enough that she could not really see the cobwebs or the sand in the carpet. She can't hear the best these days and she has profound short term memory loss. She knows it's her house though and by golly she can do her own housekeeping. I even offered to assist her in the shower. She laughed.
By that time I was deemed all right by her. I told her I need the money so I have to work. So please don't fire me. OKay, a little dramatic but true none the less. Except the inference that she could fire me. I think it will take about 4 weeks to whip that place into shape. Then, perhaps, we can tackle the shower. Hopefully the gent can get away next week.
I am going to feel this tomorrow.
It was an amazing challenge to try to get a carpet to yield up 6 years of dirt. To rid mouldings of all manner of small, ominous dark objects. Dust, dirt, droppings....
hmm.... the telephone had rung at a clients whilst I was petting a cat who no doubt smelled the last cat on my pantslegs. In fact, every client that day had a cat or 5. It was a curious question.
As I am impaired by asthma and allergies, I supposed this might be a home where the cats had free run everywhere with possible unfortunate results.
The door was open so in I went. This home was about as far from the Office as we go. I was rather surprised to be sent there but I aint the brain... just the hands. And really, it is all about senority and hours. Don't ever think otherwise. So in I go way out along the waterfront three little towns up, and as soon as I got inside I took my puffer out and inhaled one long breath of ventolin.
A gentleman rushed down the stairs, red-faced and harried looking.
"Oh I am so embaressed, I tried to get organised for you... "
The purpose of this visit was obstensively for the gent to get some time out of the home. I was there to be with the Lady of the house. For four hours. She had other ideas. Like me leaving immediatly.
There is always a moment where you can decide to do "what you are supposed to do" or, if you are a halfway decent person, you can opt to do what needs to be done. After she got her shouting out of her system I just asked the gent to keep her busy and I went into SST mode.
In my entire life, I do not think I have *ever* worked that hard that fast.
Yes, I know I did not go to college to be a cleaner. I know it is not in the "rules" but it was either clean it up or leave. Noone else in that home could do it. Two vacuum bags later, the downstairs was livable.
Damn cats.
I got upstairs by asking the gent to tell his Lady the Doctor said I had to come. She settled down after that and even tried to tip me. hee hee.
It is something I really do understand.
Once upon a time for many long years this proud Lady ruled that roost.
"I call her "The Dictator" he said.
Her vision has failed enough that she could not really see the cobwebs or the sand in the carpet. She can't hear the best these days and she has profound short term memory loss. She knows it's her house though and by golly she can do her own housekeeping. I even offered to assist her in the shower. She laughed.
By that time I was deemed all right by her. I told her I need the money so I have to work. So please don't fire me. OKay, a little dramatic but true none the less. Except the inference that she could fire me. I think it will take about 4 weeks to whip that place into shape. Then, perhaps, we can tackle the shower. Hopefully the gent can get away next week.
I am going to feel this tomorrow.
It was an amazing challenge to try to get a carpet to yield up 6 years of dirt. To rid mouldings of all manner of small, ominous dark objects. Dust, dirt, droppings....
24.5.05
Moral Musings
I thought I knew myself.
Lately, I wonder who I really am.
----------
Yeah, its been edited out.
A little too much truth.
-----------
Yes we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the Theatre really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded,
I only kiss your shadow
I cannot feel your hand
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation
and the superficial sighs
on the borders of our lives. --- Simon & Garfunkel
=====
Lately, I wonder who I really am.
----------
Yeah, its been edited out.
A little too much truth.
-----------
Yes we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the Theatre really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded,
I only kiss your shadow
I cannot feel your hand
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation
and the superficial sighs
on the borders of our lives. --- Simon & Garfunkel
=====
Today in Paradise
The warm breezes blowing in from the Pacific kiss everyone with equal passion. The gulls float and spiral without having to flap even once. The waves lap the shore gracefully while all along the breakwater, tourists and locals alike delight in the day. This, surely, is Paradise.
A lone fawn wanders along the busy highway, nowhere to go now that both sides are developed. I send up a prayer that he will find his way to the clearing a mile up ahead, without losing his life. Further along, a huge shepherd lays beside the newly paved siding, where only a month ago it was grass well back from the road. Not anymore.
"Sold" signs are everywhere with prices an unbelievable high and no end in sight.
My little place I paid $59,900 for 3 years ago is worth $135,000. I should have bought three of them. Is it still Paradise when everything from Eden is gone?
-------------
A lone fawn wanders along the busy highway, nowhere to go now that both sides are developed. I send up a prayer that he will find his way to the clearing a mile up ahead, without losing his life. Further along, a huge shepherd lays beside the newly paved siding, where only a month ago it was grass well back from the road. Not anymore.
"Sold" signs are everywhere with prices an unbelievable high and no end in sight.
My little place I paid $59,900 for 3 years ago is worth $135,000. I should have bought three of them. Is it still Paradise when everything from Eden is gone?
-------------
23.5.05
Dressed and redressed
It was *MY* grandmother who outraged and amazed me by shouting at a young black girl who had the audacity to cross the street at the same time as her. As the young girl approached, my grandmother raised her cane in anger and shouted: " Out of my way, darkie! "
Darkie? Talk about colloquialisms. Why not nigger? Or gollywog? Or something equally tasteful. Chiding her was useless. She decided not to hear. After all she was British and therefor annointed and appointed by God himself to set the moral standards of the world.
In Grama's time, English schools taught that the white race was God's special people and the others, well... I believe she was encouraged to view blacks as subhuman, and Asians as a lower class of humanity. Oh, those naughty Victorians!
When the topic was on Indian Right, or Empirical struggles in India, or aparthide in Africa she would shout: "Subjugated Races!" as if that explained everything. It seemed to satisfy her.
Perhaps growing up in such irrational certainties of values, forced my rebellious nature to the fore. A bit of the doctrine stuck, to my everylasting horror. In spite of myself, I do not believe in redress or compensation of any kind really, to people for the actions of countries at war.
We all were wronged at some point in history if you go back far enough.
Expecting the current generations to pay for the sins of their ancestors doesn't sit well with me.
Sunday, I sipped tea with a sweet old soul who was like-minded. We were reminiscing about Revelstoke. She was telling me how her father made all the tobaggon runs on "Chink Hill."
She said it in spite of herself. The language of another era came blurting out with the memories.
"I suppose I should not have said that."
"Don't worry, I understand."
And I do.
The granddaughter of a fierce old cane-wielding woman.
I better bloody well understand.
-----------------------
Typewriter bangers on
You're all just hangers on
Everyone's human 'cept Jools and Jim
Late copy churners Rock and Roll learners
Your heart's are melting in pools of gin
But I know for sure that if we met up eye to eye
A little wine would bring us closer, you and I
'Cos your right, hypocrisy will be the death of me
And theres an I before e when your spelling ecstasy
And you, you two......
Did you hear the stuff that Krishna said?
Or know for you that Jesus' blood was shed?
Is it in your heart or in your head?
Or does the truth lie in the center spread? --Pete Townshend
Darkie? Talk about colloquialisms. Why not nigger? Or gollywog? Or something equally tasteful. Chiding her was useless. She decided not to hear. After all she was British and therefor annointed and appointed by God himself to set the moral standards of the world.
In Grama's time, English schools taught that the white race was God's special people and the others, well... I believe she was encouraged to view blacks as subhuman, and Asians as a lower class of humanity. Oh, those naughty Victorians!
When the topic was on Indian Right, or Empirical struggles in India, or aparthide in Africa she would shout: "Subjugated Races!" as if that explained everything. It seemed to satisfy her.
Perhaps growing up in such irrational certainties of values, forced my rebellious nature to the fore. A bit of the doctrine stuck, to my everylasting horror. In spite of myself, I do not believe in redress or compensation of any kind really, to people for the actions of countries at war.
We all were wronged at some point in history if you go back far enough.
Expecting the current generations to pay for the sins of their ancestors doesn't sit well with me.
Sunday, I sipped tea with a sweet old soul who was like-minded. We were reminiscing about Revelstoke. She was telling me how her father made all the tobaggon runs on "Chink Hill."
She said it in spite of herself. The language of another era came blurting out with the memories.
"I suppose I should not have said that."
"Don't worry, I understand."
And I do.
The granddaughter of a fierce old cane-wielding woman.
I better bloody well understand.
-----------------------
Typewriter bangers on
You're all just hangers on
Everyone's human 'cept Jools and Jim
Late copy churners Rock and Roll learners
Your heart's are melting in pools of gin
But I know for sure that if we met up eye to eye
A little wine would bring us closer, you and I
'Cos your right, hypocrisy will be the death of me
And theres an I before e when your spelling ecstasy
And you, you two......
Did you hear the stuff that Krishna said?
Or know for you that Jesus' blood was shed?
Is it in your heart or in your head?
Or does the truth lie in the center spread? --Pete Townshend
Suckered!
There is a hard and fast rule where non-weight-bearing clients are concerned. We do not transfer them unless a sling is in place. There is another rule about people who go dead-weight during a transfer. You guide them slowly down. I know these things. Really!
Today my lovely client decided she would get up out of the bed she has taken to more and more. This time around it has been 8 days in bed. She is extremely weak. She is also anorexic and phobic about injury. She cannot abide the touch of anyone for assistance in transfers. Should you decide to do it another way than the one she has laid out, she will feign deafness and do it her way anyway. I was in a lean-over position, back straight. The transfer SHOULD take about 4 seconds maximum. She decided she was too weak and let herself fall --forwards-- whilst screaming: "Dont let go of me! Don't let go of me!"
I could have guided her down but her wheelchair was in the way, and the table. She would surely crack her pelvis at the very least. I just could not do it. I held onto her. She took her sweet bloody time getting herself sorted out all the while I am holding onto her pajama bottoms by the waistband.
You know what? I am very sore. I should have declined the transfer.
Drat.
-----------------
Client 2 battled in the past with a very serious depression. She is a very nice woman who is suffering with back problems. The pain she is experiencing is stopping her from continuing her life in a normal manner. She is now taking very strong pain killers.
As with all people taking such medicines, she now has a new problem: constipation.
She is more proactive than most drinking cranberry juice, eating figs, taking stool softeners and lots of water. Still, today was day 6 of nothing in the bowel department.
Yesterday, she was telling me she felt like crying. Today she really was crying. There is nothing I can do without a Doctors' order. This being a holiday weekend the best I could do was to suggest she call an ambulance _or_ tough it out until the next person arrives and then call. Or wait til morning and call the Doctor. All solutions that really are not.
Thankfully, clients after that were all feeling well, and behaving themselves.
All in all, a typical mundane day in the care lane.
-------------
The mundane man resembles a great ship made for the mighty ocean but trying to navigate in a millpond. He has no far port to reach, no lifting horizon, no precious cargo to carry. His hours are absorbed in routine and petty tyrannies. Small wonder if he gets dissatisfied, quarrelsome, and fed up.One of life’s greatest tragedies is a person with a 10-by-12 capacity and a two-by-four soul. [Dr. Kenneth Hildebrand]
Today my lovely client decided she would get up out of the bed she has taken to more and more. This time around it has been 8 days in bed. She is extremely weak. She is also anorexic and phobic about injury. She cannot abide the touch of anyone for assistance in transfers. Should you decide to do it another way than the one she has laid out, she will feign deafness and do it her way anyway. I was in a lean-over position, back straight. The transfer SHOULD take about 4 seconds maximum. She decided she was too weak and let herself fall --forwards-- whilst screaming: "Dont let go of me! Don't let go of me!"
I could have guided her down but her wheelchair was in the way, and the table. She would surely crack her pelvis at the very least. I just could not do it. I held onto her. She took her sweet bloody time getting herself sorted out all the while I am holding onto her pajama bottoms by the waistband.
You know what? I am very sore. I should have declined the transfer.
Drat.
-----------------
Client 2 battled in the past with a very serious depression. She is a very nice woman who is suffering with back problems. The pain she is experiencing is stopping her from continuing her life in a normal manner. She is now taking very strong pain killers.
As with all people taking such medicines, she now has a new problem: constipation.
She is more proactive than most drinking cranberry juice, eating figs, taking stool softeners and lots of water. Still, today was day 6 of nothing in the bowel department.
Yesterday, she was telling me she felt like crying. Today she really was crying. There is nothing I can do without a Doctors' order. This being a holiday weekend the best I could do was to suggest she call an ambulance _or_ tough it out until the next person arrives and then call. Or wait til morning and call the Doctor. All solutions that really are not.
Thankfully, clients after that were all feeling well, and behaving themselves.
All in all, a typical mundane day in the care lane.
-------------
The mundane man resembles a great ship made for the mighty ocean but trying to navigate in a millpond. He has no far port to reach, no lifting horizon, no precious cargo to carry. His hours are absorbed in routine and petty tyrannies. Small wonder if he gets dissatisfied, quarrelsome, and fed up.One of life’s greatest tragedies is a person with a 10-by-12 capacity and a two-by-four soul. [Dr. Kenneth Hildebrand]
20.5.05
Fish and Chippers
I went on a date!
Aren't you glad you are sitting down?
A loverly date with a very nice man.
mmm fish and chippers! Mmm walk on the beach! mmm rainshower necessitating leaning into mr. date. Right on God!
It was a good time.
-----------------
--- just wanted to share this info with you 'clue!
Dating in the REAL world.
ha!
-------------
All that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream.
---poe
Aren't you glad you are sitting down?
A loverly date with a very nice man.
mmm fish and chippers! Mmm walk on the beach! mmm rainshower necessitating leaning into mr. date. Right on God!
It was a good time.
-----------------
--- just wanted to share this info with you 'clue!
Dating in the REAL world.
ha!
-------------
All that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream.
---poe
17.5.05
re-arrangements
Yesterday, my entire day was rewrit and today I had just started when again, I was changed around. This happens when too many people have called in sick or too many discharges into Community happen. This week I believe it is worker illnesses. Change means new people to me and I love that! Some very fine new clients I met today. It was grand.
-----oh I had something to say, really I did, and when I remember it, I shall edit this post for all to enjoy. In the meantime, whadda putzs!
-----oh I had something to say, really I did, and when I remember it, I shall edit this post for all to enjoy. In the meantime, whadda putzs!
By the Sea by the Sea by the beautiful Sea
Inbetween clients, when I am able, I sit by the Sea and watch the waves. There is a large resident gull population to keep me entertained, if no sealions are in the Bay, and if even the gulls are quiet, we always have crows. Boy, do we have crows.
Listening to my radio, and there was a piece on the changing face of the Island.
An interview with an author and her sister-in-law, who worked for the local landmark at the tender age of 15 back in the 1920s. She is a client this woman is. Tiny little thing with a very jaundiced eye. She sounded so sweet on the radio. -ha!--
Yes, we are changing quickly here in Paradise. Someone told the masses and they are coming in droves. Alas. The local landmark will be pulled down to make way for *beachfront* condos.
Stupid developers. You can't buy paradise once it is gone. Of course I know little or nothing about development except that trees die, habitat is destroyed, species extinct and then we all say never mind dear, you have an oceanfront view now. I wonder if the cockroaches will miss us. I bet not.
--------------
Listening to my radio, and there was a piece on the changing face of the Island.
An interview with an author and her sister-in-law, who worked for the local landmark at the tender age of 15 back in the 1920s. She is a client this woman is. Tiny little thing with a very jaundiced eye. She sounded so sweet on the radio. -ha!--
Yes, we are changing quickly here in Paradise. Someone told the masses and they are coming in droves. Alas. The local landmark will be pulled down to make way for *beachfront* condos.
Stupid developers. You can't buy paradise once it is gone. Of course I know little or nothing about development except that trees die, habitat is destroyed, species extinct and then we all say never mind dear, you have an oceanfront view now. I wonder if the cockroaches will miss us. I bet not.
--------------
16.5.05
Death 101
The course in Death 101 is full enrollment but oddly enough very few people write their midterms. It is not like you can fail Death, but you certainly can do it badly.
Care for me became a career from the moment I saw the decline in a family member.
It was instinctual, and I felt the nudge to upgrade and retrain. Thankfully, my first stop was a Hospice Course where I learned to honour the Spirit of the client. A wonderful Instructor, Helen _____ was the right fit for that job. She pulled together a 3 month course that touched on all aspects of death and dying as pertains to Hospice workers.
My client of the morning is one that I bless Helen for every day, in that the care comes with a dash of insistance on safe practise and a dollop of compassion. I know noone really wants to die. We may wish our lives could be otherwise, we may wish our minds worked in other ways, but none of us truly wishes ourselves dead. At some point in the palliative process that changes. Something makes the standard of living unbearable, and we let go. At least, that is what I perceive to be happening.
Morning woman so beautiful and full of elegance and taste is loosing her battle with breast cancer. She is conducting her dying in the same way as she lived: defiantly and in full control.
The only trouble with this is that control is not possible as you begin the final death process.
Letting her try to do things is my way the middle way, and as she finds her strength lessened, she asks for help immediatly. I find this kinder than insisting to do it MY way. She is a smart woman. She knows the score.
Today I put her back to bed and assured her friends who are the primary care givers that it is not possible for her to live much beyond this week. It is a miracle she is still alive but we are already past her boundary line for personal care and I can see she will find the next chapter intolerable. She will let go.
I pray that God in his mercy sends a special angel to her to bear the tremendous burden of pride she has carried for so long. Once that load is off she too can soar.
------------------
"One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar." ~ Helen Keller ~
Care for me became a career from the moment I saw the decline in a family member.
It was instinctual, and I felt the nudge to upgrade and retrain. Thankfully, my first stop was a Hospice Course where I learned to honour the Spirit of the client. A wonderful Instructor, Helen _____ was the right fit for that job. She pulled together a 3 month course that touched on all aspects of death and dying as pertains to Hospice workers.
My client of the morning is one that I bless Helen for every day, in that the care comes with a dash of insistance on safe practise and a dollop of compassion. I know noone really wants to die. We may wish our lives could be otherwise, we may wish our minds worked in other ways, but none of us truly wishes ourselves dead. At some point in the palliative process that changes. Something makes the standard of living unbearable, and we let go. At least, that is what I perceive to be happening.
Morning woman so beautiful and full of elegance and taste is loosing her battle with breast cancer. She is conducting her dying in the same way as she lived: defiantly and in full control.
The only trouble with this is that control is not possible as you begin the final death process.
Letting her try to do things is my way the middle way, and as she finds her strength lessened, she asks for help immediatly. I find this kinder than insisting to do it MY way. She is a smart woman. She knows the score.
Today I put her back to bed and assured her friends who are the primary care givers that it is not possible for her to live much beyond this week. It is a miracle she is still alive but we are already past her boundary line for personal care and I can see she will find the next chapter intolerable. She will let go.
I pray that God in his mercy sends a special angel to her to bear the tremendous burden of pride she has carried for so long. Once that load is off she too can soar.
------------------
"One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar." ~ Helen Keller ~
My Isle of Serenity
Privacy, peace and serenity.
With me, every day along for the ride comes my Isle of peace and serenity. It flows out from me to the world. The Earth groans under the weight of the dominant species, voraciously devouring her and I too groan. I rely on my Isle to keep me sane.
Watching the boiling seas of grey today, the saline womb miffed at our impudence, was is really just a blink since we crawled ashore?
ah Darwin: thief of ideas: MY God is bigger than that!
My God touches, envolopes his creation while we push away ever trying to make him in our image. Small gods require idols and pantheons but my God has the whole world to testify the Glory of his unknowable awesomeness.
A part of me is divine. When at last I too lay down for the last time that part will soar to be with Him.
-------
-------------
------------------
Still a little sad about the house. Hoping that at least I get to see the guy.
-----------------------------
"Feeling and longing are the motive forces behind all human endeavor and human creations."
Albert Einstein
For now, my Island of peace and serenity goes with me.
With me, every day along for the ride comes my Isle of peace and serenity. It flows out from me to the world. The Earth groans under the weight of the dominant species, voraciously devouring her and I too groan. I rely on my Isle to keep me sane.
Watching the boiling seas of grey today, the saline womb miffed at our impudence, was is really just a blink since we crawled ashore?
ah Darwin: thief of ideas: MY God is bigger than that!
My God touches, envolopes his creation while we push away ever trying to make him in our image. Small gods require idols and pantheons but my God has the whole world to testify the Glory of his unknowable awesomeness.
A part of me is divine. When at last I too lay down for the last time that part will soar to be with Him.
-------
-------------
------------------
Still a little sad about the house. Hoping that at least I get to see the guy.
-----------------------------
"Feeling and longing are the motive forces behind all human endeavor and human creations."
Albert Einstein
For now, my Island of peace and serenity goes with me.
15.5.05
Planning and scheming
Having spent each day in care, I return home for my downtime.
I need alot more alone time than anyone else I know. This is not new. I have always required it. Now more than ever I have to zealously guard my privacy as I have a family member who is on the very edge of requiring care. There is only one of me, and well I know it.
I am very involved in Health and Wellness in the Workplace and carry around with me brochures and cards for other Professionals who appear to be in need of a listening ear.
Too bad more people do not avail themselves of the service.
It is essential to self-care to eat well and get plenty of exercise. I work so hard some days I go through 2 t-shirts under my uniform. Of course some of the homes I do care in are over 100degrees fahrenheit. (did I spell that correctly?)
Once I come home and eat, and nap, I have around 2 hours before I have obligations.
This is time that is sacred to me. Lately the sanctuary is vacant. My parent is needing me.
I hired a private nurse today for him. He does not really realise she is our employee, not yet anyway. He is too busy flirting.
Now: hmm, I am younger... do I get to flirt?
drat it... nopers.
Every week I look forward to the two days I get to be on my own all on my own.
I plan and scheme how to fill them up with fun things.
I used to go fishing. I used to roar around in my sports car or on my bike.
I used to fly my kites all day every day off.
I seem to have gone off those pursuits.
Now mostly, I write or play rpg or read. The lure of glittery things entices me out to the shoppes. I am so cheap I squeak. It is a good kind of squeak though. I do not owe anyone $$ no Visa no Mastercard, and I pay cash for everything. It works for me. Everything shows up in the Thrift is you wait long enough, and check regularly. It is tons of fun. I miss my MGB and my Harley but hey: picking is fun too. The key ingredient to me for time off is to ENJOY IT!
There is alot of fun in most aspects of life. mmm and food. I loves my food. Cooking is a pleasure but its always nice on a day off to go out for tasty and delicious breakfast at the local A & W. Its the bestest. I love my brekkies there. Usually it is full of old farts not many fart-ettes, and man how they talk! I read the paper and listen. They all know me but I do not sit with any of them unless they are friends of my parent.
In a related social note for myself, mostly:
This coming weekend is a Highland Games in a city North of here on the Saturday, and, an even bigger one in a city south of here on the Sunday. I can go saturday!
-------------------
-------------------
It must be Spring and this must be Spring fever.
Since I saw that man working on his fence I have been on this strange turn of mind.
Anyone would think I was 14.
--------------------
"It's spring fever.... You don't quite know what it is you DO want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!"
Mark Twain quotes (American humorist, writer and lecturer. 1835-1910)
I need alot more alone time than anyone else I know. This is not new. I have always required it. Now more than ever I have to zealously guard my privacy as I have a family member who is on the very edge of requiring care. There is only one of me, and well I know it.
I am very involved in Health and Wellness in the Workplace and carry around with me brochures and cards for other Professionals who appear to be in need of a listening ear.
Too bad more people do not avail themselves of the service.
It is essential to self-care to eat well and get plenty of exercise. I work so hard some days I go through 2 t-shirts under my uniform. Of course some of the homes I do care in are over 100degrees fahrenheit. (did I spell that correctly?)
Once I come home and eat, and nap, I have around 2 hours before I have obligations.
This is time that is sacred to me. Lately the sanctuary is vacant. My parent is needing me.
I hired a private nurse today for him. He does not really realise she is our employee, not yet anyway. He is too busy flirting.
Now: hmm, I am younger... do I get to flirt?
drat it... nopers.
Every week I look forward to the two days I get to be on my own all on my own.
I plan and scheme how to fill them up with fun things.
I used to go fishing. I used to roar around in my sports car or on my bike.
I used to fly my kites all day every day off.
I seem to have gone off those pursuits.
Now mostly, I write or play rpg or read. The lure of glittery things entices me out to the shoppes. I am so cheap I squeak. It is a good kind of squeak though. I do not owe anyone $$ no Visa no Mastercard, and I pay cash for everything. It works for me. Everything shows up in the Thrift is you wait long enough, and check regularly. It is tons of fun. I miss my MGB and my Harley but hey: picking is fun too. The key ingredient to me for time off is to ENJOY IT!
There is alot of fun in most aspects of life. mmm and food. I loves my food. Cooking is a pleasure but its always nice on a day off to go out for tasty and delicious breakfast at the local A & W. Its the bestest. I love my brekkies there. Usually it is full of old farts not many fart-ettes, and man how they talk! I read the paper and listen. They all know me but I do not sit with any of them unless they are friends of my parent.
In a related social note for myself, mostly:
This coming weekend is a Highland Games in a city North of here on the Saturday, and, an even bigger one in a city south of here on the Sunday. I can go saturday!
-------------------
-------------------
It must be Spring and this must be Spring fever.
Since I saw that man working on his fence I have been on this strange turn of mind.
Anyone would think I was 14.
--------------------
"It's spring fever.... You don't quite know what it is you DO want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!"
Mark Twain quotes (American humorist, writer and lecturer. 1835-1910)
Echoes or ripples?
Last year I made a private offer on a home in my little city.
The price was right and the sole glitch was that I had to sell my little place first.
I had my place on the market with 2 offers I was considering when I was told my private vendor had listed the property with a Realtor.
Calling the vendor, I took great care to be exceptionally civil. I knew one little strayance from the path would result in my YELLING AND SCREAMING about the huge breech of plain common courtsey involved in her behaviour. I know _anyone at all_ can be pissy for no reason or not much of a reason. Not considering myself to be *just anyone* I choose to act better.
It was tough in this case. I had to remind myself of my own credo about manners and kindness.
Of course I could have taken some action, legally, but do I want a home I have to sue for?
Nope. I do not. It took 3 or 4 months before I could speak with the vendor. We live in a small small city and she has much the same habits as I do regarding shopping. We crossed paths constantly and she would dart to another aisle, eyes down. One day I woke up and just did not care anymore. I saw her that very day and gave her a big hug and told her to forget about it.
She burst into tears. It was over. Done.
Now it is a year later and she was telling me constantly about these 2 guys who lived across from her. She was saying how hard they work on their home and how great it was to see a project being completed. Then, she was saying the home was for sale.
Admittedly, I was somewhat shy of going anywhere near her in the Real Estate world, but they home was listed through an agent and it was real cute to look at. The price, also, was just right.
I was concerned that I would not have a chance to see it and bid on it before the sold sign went up. I went over and met the owner.
Small world, little city but even so this was a bizarre connection. I looked into the eyes of a tall, slinky man who exuded positivity. He was working on his fence, sweating a little. Maybe that is why he looked so damned cute. I knew him, I thought and was gaping. Then I asked him if his last name was _________. And indeed it was.
He was the son of a client of mine. I really enjoyed this particular Lady. She was so clear in her needs and very gracious. I always enjoyed my time with her. She had been widowed during the time she received service, and now her son was living with her as resident caregiver. This was the other son. Quelle Bizarre.
Drat my Realtor anyway, I told him offer full price no subjects and he told me that wasnt necessary and drat me anyway I let him write it up. Did not get the house. It went to the person who offered full price no subjects. Drat drat drat.
I had left my phone# I think somewhere.
Ya never know. Maybe it wasn't about the house. Maybe the Universe had something else in mind. Too odd tho, no?
There are very few families who are reasonable to Caregivers. Generally, the nicer the client is the worse the families are in trying to control every action and interaction. I still remember the grand olde man of 96 who was so happy to be home from *respite* where his family stashed him while they went on holiday. At least that is what they told him.
"I am so glad to be home. I really hated it there. I think I can stay here at home if I have the right support set up. I told my daughter that."
2 weeks later she put him in permanent care in the facility he detested and listed his house for quick sale. I see her around from time to time but I cannot bring myself to say hello. I feel like slapping her. Bad me.
And then we have these 2 brothers who have seen their aging mom through many difficult times and never let her down. Makes a difference when you know you are not alone.
------------------
Synchronicities are people, places or events that your soul attracts into your life - to help you evolve or to place emphasis on something going on in your life.
The more 'consciously aware' you become of how your soul creates - the higher your frequency goes and the faster your soul manifests.
Each day your life will become filled with meaningful coincidences - synchronicities - that you have attracted - or created in the grid of your experiences in the physical.
The price was right and the sole glitch was that I had to sell my little place first.
I had my place on the market with 2 offers I was considering when I was told my private vendor had listed the property with a Realtor.
Calling the vendor, I took great care to be exceptionally civil. I knew one little strayance from the path would result in my YELLING AND SCREAMING about the huge breech of plain common courtsey involved in her behaviour. I know _anyone at all_ can be pissy for no reason or not much of a reason. Not considering myself to be *just anyone* I choose to act better.
It was tough in this case. I had to remind myself of my own credo about manners and kindness.
Of course I could have taken some action, legally, but do I want a home I have to sue for?
Nope. I do not. It took 3 or 4 months before I could speak with the vendor. We live in a small small city and she has much the same habits as I do regarding shopping. We crossed paths constantly and she would dart to another aisle, eyes down. One day I woke up and just did not care anymore. I saw her that very day and gave her a big hug and told her to forget about it.
She burst into tears. It was over. Done.
Now it is a year later and she was telling me constantly about these 2 guys who lived across from her. She was saying how hard they work on their home and how great it was to see a project being completed. Then, she was saying the home was for sale.
Admittedly, I was somewhat shy of going anywhere near her in the Real Estate world, but they home was listed through an agent and it was real cute to look at. The price, also, was just right.
I was concerned that I would not have a chance to see it and bid on it before the sold sign went up. I went over and met the owner.
Small world, little city but even so this was a bizarre connection. I looked into the eyes of a tall, slinky man who exuded positivity. He was working on his fence, sweating a little. Maybe that is why he looked so damned cute. I knew him, I thought and was gaping. Then I asked him if his last name was _________. And indeed it was.
He was the son of a client of mine. I really enjoyed this particular Lady. She was so clear in her needs and very gracious. I always enjoyed my time with her. She had been widowed during the time she received service, and now her son was living with her as resident caregiver. This was the other son. Quelle Bizarre.
Drat my Realtor anyway, I told him offer full price no subjects and he told me that wasnt necessary and drat me anyway I let him write it up. Did not get the house. It went to the person who offered full price no subjects. Drat drat drat.
I had left my phone# I think somewhere.
Ya never know. Maybe it wasn't about the house. Maybe the Universe had something else in mind. Too odd tho, no?
There are very few families who are reasonable to Caregivers. Generally, the nicer the client is the worse the families are in trying to control every action and interaction. I still remember the grand olde man of 96 who was so happy to be home from *respite* where his family stashed him while they went on holiday. At least that is what they told him.
"I am so glad to be home. I really hated it there. I think I can stay here at home if I have the right support set up. I told my daughter that."
2 weeks later she put him in permanent care in the facility he detested and listed his house for quick sale. I see her around from time to time but I cannot bring myself to say hello. I feel like slapping her. Bad me.
And then we have these 2 brothers who have seen their aging mom through many difficult times and never let her down. Makes a difference when you know you are not alone.
------------------
Synchronicities are people, places or events that your soul attracts into your life - to help you evolve or to place emphasis on something going on in your life.
The more 'consciously aware' you become of how your soul creates - the higher your frequency goes and the faster your soul manifests.
Each day your life will become filled with meaningful coincidences - synchronicities - that you have attracted - or created in the grid of your experiences in the physical.
Cornelius Wilheim (part 2)
Cor was rushed to the Hospital following his accident. The Doctors advised his family, the ones who weren't in Emergency surgery, that he would not make the morning on this side of the temporal veil. In the morning, duely shocked and amazed, they revised that to the Weekend.
"3 days at best, better make some plans."
Friday morning, gathered around his bedside to say goodbye, the Doctor leaned over Cor to check some function or other. He made some remark about his failing and Cor's eyes flew open.
He lifted his head and looked at the Doctor in annoyance.
"Stop telling everyone I am dying. I am not going anywhere."
Having said that, he went back into his little sleep. Naturally he recovered.
I loved Cor deeply. He was my father-in-law once upon a time.
I toyed with going to his funeral but I have my own father stuff happening and really, I should have gone to see him alive, not show up gratuitously after his end. I have the ultimate respect for the family inviting me. How very decent.
----------------------
Ceremony is necessary as the outwork and defense of manners.
Lord Chesterfield
"3 days at best, better make some plans."
Friday morning, gathered around his bedside to say goodbye, the Doctor leaned over Cor to check some function or other. He made some remark about his failing and Cor's eyes flew open.
He lifted his head and looked at the Doctor in annoyance.
"Stop telling everyone I am dying. I am not going anywhere."
Having said that, he went back into his little sleep. Naturally he recovered.
I loved Cor deeply. He was my father-in-law once upon a time.
I toyed with going to his funeral but I have my own father stuff happening and really, I should have gone to see him alive, not show up gratuitously after his end. I have the ultimate respect for the family inviting me. How very decent.
----------------------
Ceremony is necessary as the outwork and defense of manners.
Lord Chesterfield
14.5.05
The Dutchman
I met the Dutchman when I was much younger and prettier than I am now.
Good thing too about the prettier part, as I think my brains were scattered all over the landscape; out looking for my common sense. He found me utterly charming.
I found him a marvel of nature.
It was a chaotic relationship. He decided that I should speak Dutch to him therefor he spoke *only* Dutch to me. I would cry in frustration and blush. One day there were six or seven people in the room along with me, and he was telling a story. I laughed. It was a moment before I realised I had understood the humour, in Dutch. He knew what he was doing all along the canny old bird.
Unlike me, he could tolerate the sun and would garden from dawn to dusk some days. He had a regular sized city lot in Vancouver which means 33 by 110 including a lane allowance. There was not a strand of grass left. He provided his year round vegetables from that little lot and could not understand why his neighbours did not follow suit. Having lived through 2 wars and the depression he was thrifty to say the least. In world war 2 he managed to keep the family going while all around him people starved. His front room was bombed out and he was roused from his bed in the middle of the night while German Occupying Officers searched his house for the radio they had been informed he listened to. He never caved in to the pressure nor did they ever find it. He was really clever about things, even in those years.
Once the war was over, his little family expanded to include more children, and he contemplated a move to Canada. Inbetween work and musings he sang in a baritone tenor for the entire block to hear. After all, is that not why God gives some of us louder voices? To share with all around the marvels of his creation? Cor certainly thought so. That was his name.
Cornelius Wilheim. God gave him a double heaping helping of moxie. He would need it. But for now there was the Choir.
A nearby Cathedral was recruiting voices for their touring choir. Naturally Cor knew God would want him to do that and so he joined up and had the honour of going to the Vatican and singing for the Pope. The Choir was further rewarded for their efforts by a personal audience with His Holiness, the Bishop of Rome. When they were all assembled the Pope went down the line praising each man for his part in the recital. He came to Cor and was about to praise him when Cor decided to share with him: "I'm not Catholic you know."
He said the Pope laughed. I bet the Choirmaster didnt tho.
Cor did move the family to Canada in the 1950s where he had another daughter to complete his family. She was young enough to be the child of his first daughter who was long since out of the house and married with kids of her own. He doted on this last child of his and took her out of School at the drop of a hat if there was even a whisper of an excuse to do so. He got more of a murmuring when his sister arrived from Holland for a visit. Naturally he took his beloved youngest daughter with him to pick up the Aunt and he, his wife and daughter and sister set out from the airport on a sight seeing driver around Vancouver.
The roads in West Vancouver can be steep and slippery but they are well maintained. Cor was driving up a 22% incline when a car pulling a load of gravel slipped in front of him. He let the car gain some distance as he pointed out various local attractions and visages to his sister.
He thought he saw some little thing out of place but could not quite get his conscious brain to identify it until he realised with a start that the gravel trailer was going the wrong direction having snapped off from the towbar. The trailer which was fully loaded was careening down the hill towards him.
---------------------
Let bravery be thy choice, but not bravado.
Menander Greek comic dramatist (342 BC - 292 BC)
Good thing too about the prettier part, as I think my brains were scattered all over the landscape; out looking for my common sense. He found me utterly charming.
I found him a marvel of nature.
It was a chaotic relationship. He decided that I should speak Dutch to him therefor he spoke *only* Dutch to me. I would cry in frustration and blush. One day there were six or seven people in the room along with me, and he was telling a story. I laughed. It was a moment before I realised I had understood the humour, in Dutch. He knew what he was doing all along the canny old bird.
Unlike me, he could tolerate the sun and would garden from dawn to dusk some days. He had a regular sized city lot in Vancouver which means 33 by 110 including a lane allowance. There was not a strand of grass left. He provided his year round vegetables from that little lot and could not understand why his neighbours did not follow suit. Having lived through 2 wars and the depression he was thrifty to say the least. In world war 2 he managed to keep the family going while all around him people starved. His front room was bombed out and he was roused from his bed in the middle of the night while German Occupying Officers searched his house for the radio they had been informed he listened to. He never caved in to the pressure nor did they ever find it. He was really clever about things, even in those years.
Once the war was over, his little family expanded to include more children, and he contemplated a move to Canada. Inbetween work and musings he sang in a baritone tenor for the entire block to hear. After all, is that not why God gives some of us louder voices? To share with all around the marvels of his creation? Cor certainly thought so. That was his name.
Cornelius Wilheim. God gave him a double heaping helping of moxie. He would need it. But for now there was the Choir.
A nearby Cathedral was recruiting voices for their touring choir. Naturally Cor knew God would want him to do that and so he joined up and had the honour of going to the Vatican and singing for the Pope. The Choir was further rewarded for their efforts by a personal audience with His Holiness, the Bishop of Rome. When they were all assembled the Pope went down the line praising each man for his part in the recital. He came to Cor and was about to praise him when Cor decided to share with him: "I'm not Catholic you know."
He said the Pope laughed. I bet the Choirmaster didnt tho.
Cor did move the family to Canada in the 1950s where he had another daughter to complete his family. She was young enough to be the child of his first daughter who was long since out of the house and married with kids of her own. He doted on this last child of his and took her out of School at the drop of a hat if there was even a whisper of an excuse to do so. He got more of a murmuring when his sister arrived from Holland for a visit. Naturally he took his beloved youngest daughter with him to pick up the Aunt and he, his wife and daughter and sister set out from the airport on a sight seeing driver around Vancouver.
The roads in West Vancouver can be steep and slippery but they are well maintained. Cor was driving up a 22% incline when a car pulling a load of gravel slipped in front of him. He let the car gain some distance as he pointed out various local attractions and visages to his sister.
He thought he saw some little thing out of place but could not quite get his conscious brain to identify it until he realised with a start that the gravel trailer was going the wrong direction having snapped off from the towbar. The trailer which was fully loaded was careening down the hill towards him.
---------------------
Let bravery be thy choice, but not bravado.
Menander Greek comic dramatist (342 BC - 292 BC)
10.5.05
Thank you, you can go now
Ah friends.
So helpful.
God bless the friends of this world who take it upon themselves to see their beloveds to the next. For all that you angels do, bless your hearts.
Now you have your warm and fuzzies. Take them and butt out!
I do not know what possesses friends to think they are expert in end of life care.
They are expert in friendship.
I will speak to this later on. I am annoyed atm as you may surmise.
My client was telling me this morning how she loved her friends but she just wanted them to butt out. When the friends come and take over they yank her out of her chair and walk her without her walker and expect things that are just not teachable in one session.
Be a good friend.
Remember this and leave the personal care to professionals when End of life looms.
And dont be yarding your friend up by the arms. Or hanging off their subcue med arm walking them. Or asking them a million stupid questions.
Be a good friend.
-----------------------
So helpful.
God bless the friends of this world who take it upon themselves to see their beloveds to the next. For all that you angels do, bless your hearts.
Now you have your warm and fuzzies. Take them and butt out!
I do not know what possesses friends to think they are expert in end of life care.
They are expert in friendship.
I will speak to this later on. I am annoyed atm as you may surmise.
My client was telling me this morning how she loved her friends but she just wanted them to butt out. When the friends come and take over they yank her out of her chair and walk her without her walker and expect things that are just not teachable in one session.
Be a good friend.
Remember this and leave the personal care to professionals when End of life looms.
And dont be yarding your friend up by the arms. Or hanging off their subcue med arm walking them. Or asking them a million stupid questions.
Be a good friend.
-----------------------
9.5.05
"Just a cuppa tea thank you dear"
We do the job whatever that is, however defined by our written instructions, whereever we are sent. For me, that generally means alot of personal care, and things a person would want to do themselves if they could manage it. When a client is able, I just assist. When a client is palliating and weak, I do it.
The PPS scale we use, indicates to me before I enter the home what to expect.
I had a woman assessed pps30 decide to get up and take a bath alone. Locked herself in the bathroom to prove the point (and desire for independance). You just never know!
A very lovely person I met recently, was reticient regarding personal care. It was a strong boundary that she would not yield. Every day I went, and every day she declined.
"Just make a cup of dear, dear. That is what I would like best to do."
We floated in tea for 2 weeks an hour at a time. She could barely keep her eyes open and was having trouble making it through the night, but she would not use a walker thank you VERY much nor would she leave her bedroom unless fully dressed, lipstick on.
On the weekend just before Mother's Day, she and I were alone for a few hours.
"Let's use the fine china today. Just a minute."
She wobbled over to the dining room and took out her best dishes. I made the tea and poured into her wedding present cups. She went into the pantry and got out truffles.
Tea and truffles. We talked about men and gardens and all things lite.
And then it was time for me to go home.
She went to hospital an hour later. After I left.
But we had a wonderful cuppa. And the truffles were very good.
It was hard honouring her path.
But we honoured it.
-----------------------
"When the going gets tough, the tough eat chocolate."
--ME! (and millions of other women)
The PPS scale we use, indicates to me before I enter the home what to expect.
I had a woman assessed pps30 decide to get up and take a bath alone. Locked herself in the bathroom to prove the point (and desire for independance). You just never know!
A very lovely person I met recently, was reticient regarding personal care. It was a strong boundary that she would not yield. Every day I went, and every day she declined.
"Just make a cup of dear, dear. That is what I would like best to do."
We floated in tea for 2 weeks an hour at a time. She could barely keep her eyes open and was having trouble making it through the night, but she would not use a walker thank you VERY much nor would she leave her bedroom unless fully dressed, lipstick on.
On the weekend just before Mother's Day, she and I were alone for a few hours.
"Let's use the fine china today. Just a minute."
She wobbled over to the dining room and took out her best dishes. I made the tea and poured into her wedding present cups. She went into the pantry and got out truffles.
Tea and truffles. We talked about men and gardens and all things lite.
And then it was time for me to go home.
She went to hospital an hour later. After I left.
But we had a wonderful cuppa. And the truffles were very good.
It was hard honouring her path.
But we honoured it.
-----------------------
"When the going gets tough, the tough eat chocolate."
--ME! (and millions of other women)
Frozen terror--- the Fridge!
I love starting the day with my lovely Danish client.
She tells me about her beloved homeland while cheerily eating her 5 minute egg, toasted sesame buttered bun and sipping her very strong coffee, whitened with just a smidge of whipping cream.
MMMM I want to be like that when I am 83.
Today she told me about the flag that flew outside the King's residence after the Nazi occupation of Denmark.
"The King called the German commander and told him to take the flag of Nazi Germany down and to replace the Danish flag that had always flown there. The Commander told him that the flag would remain. The King then told him, in that case he would send a soldier to take it down. The Commander told him the soldier would be killed. The King said: "The soldier is me." "
Apparantly King Christian was a very good man. We never hear such stories here unless a patriotic dane tells them.
We took our next position on the battlefield facing our enemy: the fridge.
(cue music: DAH DAH DUM!)
I could not fit one more thing in that fridge. I asked her if she was expecting a shortage of danish jam and specialty condiments. She has someone in there every day checking on her assisting and assessing as her breathe is laboured at best. Apparantly everyone else thinks she likes hoarding jams and jars by the hundred.
"Can't we sort this fridge of yours out?" I said hopefully.
"I know these things are expensive but I am afraid you are going to poison yourself with something outdated or that I would throw the wrong thing away."
"Oh dear, I wish you would."
"Not ME, my dear, *US*."
There was nothing for it but to show up a little early and take every single item out and put it on the dining room table for her to approve or decry. I took 3 black garbage bags to the curb.
The fridge is looking pretty smug today. But wait 'til Thursday. I will finish the job.
Sounds mundane?
My client has been ill about 4 times in 3 months with miscellaneous gastric complaints.
SOMEONE had to clean that buggery fridge.
;)
--------------------------
She tells me about her beloved homeland while cheerily eating her 5 minute egg, toasted sesame buttered bun and sipping her very strong coffee, whitened with just a smidge of whipping cream.
MMMM I want to be like that when I am 83.
Today she told me about the flag that flew outside the King's residence after the Nazi occupation of Denmark.
"The King called the German commander and told him to take the flag of Nazi Germany down and to replace the Danish flag that had always flown there. The Commander told him that the flag would remain. The King then told him, in that case he would send a soldier to take it down. The Commander told him the soldier would be killed. The King said: "The soldier is me." "
Apparantly King Christian was a very good man. We never hear such stories here unless a patriotic dane tells them.
We took our next position on the battlefield facing our enemy: the fridge.
(cue music: DAH DAH DUM!)
I could not fit one more thing in that fridge. I asked her if she was expecting a shortage of danish jam and specialty condiments. She has someone in there every day checking on her assisting and assessing as her breathe is laboured at best. Apparantly everyone else thinks she likes hoarding jams and jars by the hundred.
"Can't we sort this fridge of yours out?" I said hopefully.
"I know these things are expensive but I am afraid you are going to poison yourself with something outdated or that I would throw the wrong thing away."
"Oh dear, I wish you would."
"Not ME, my dear, *US*."
There was nothing for it but to show up a little early and take every single item out and put it on the dining room table for her to approve or decry. I took 3 black garbage bags to the curb.
The fridge is looking pretty smug today. But wait 'til Thursday. I will finish the job.
Sounds mundane?
My client has been ill about 4 times in 3 months with miscellaneous gastric complaints.
SOMEONE had to clean that buggery fridge.
;)
--------------------------
8.5.05
Tea and Cookies
On the very best china no less.
I will write this later, just dont want to forget it.
Wedgewood china and a very houseproud woman
------
I will write this later, just dont want to forget it.
Wedgewood china and a very houseproud woman
------
Just went out to give him something
Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Don't I say that almost every Sunday? Sadly it is almost always true. It certainly was today.
I start every Sunday with the client who is the most demanding of them all.
Clients come and go, live and die, come on service, drop off service and still she is around.
Not that we do not appreciate the business or anything but it is too bad she does not understand the concept of repricosity. She believes it is only about her and everyone else must defer or deter. Blah.
I was thinking to myself, after I left her home, how nice the rest of the day would be.
Clients 2 and 3 are full care, but on the way to independance again, client 4 is a joy to be around.
Client 5 is in Hospital now so client 6-7-8 would be me! Going home!!
*buzz* ---wrong answer---
Clients 2 and 3 went like a dream.
Client 4 the joy and delight did not appear to be home. I had a bad feeling. After waiting the requisite 4 minutes it would take for someone to come, slowly, to the door, I went in search of the hidden key and went in.
The usual place my dear client goes is the shower. Not in the shower.
Once the garage door was a source of confusion, and I had to liberate my client from the garage.
Today, it was not the garage. I checked the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the garage, and laundry rooms, and looked around for shoes, and coats to indicate a walk. No no no and nope.
I opened the living room curtains, and looked outside.
Nothing in the back yard. My spidie-senses were tingling.
On the concrete patio laying flat, face-up, blue-lipped, was the client.
Rushing out to check for a pulse I saw an eyelid flutter.
"I have to call for the paramedic, just wait a moment."
The client was so cold, eyes glazed over, foam from both corners of the mouth. I held a pale cold hand and spoke quietly waiting for the ambulance.
My client was muttering something almost inaudible.
"I just was getting something for the dog. He looked so hungry. I just came out to give him something to eat."
God bless the people who train us. God bless the man who long ago drilled into my cottonball head, put a blanket over any crisis victim and call 9-1-1 and while you wait keep the person calm.
The clothes had to be cut off. The shoulder was out of its socket. The right temple had a horrid contusion. The upper back was moving at cross purposes to the lower back.
And all through these manueverings the client quietly waited. No fussing.
I have a new hero.
The Paramedics in my District.
And my dear client who was most likely outside all night laying, waiting, knowing help would come. Eventually. After they left, I cleaned up as much blood as I could. It was distressing enough without the family arriving to see *that*.
I had noticed when I arrived, and again when I left that on either side of my client both neighbours had company for Mothers day. On one side they were sitting on the patio drinking coffee, and sharing chit-chat. On the other side, they were gardening. For some reason noone thought to look over the shubbery where a 80 year old hero lay.
damn it all.
----------------------
Ambrose Bierce: Patience:
A minor form of despair, disguised as a virtue.
Don't I say that almost every Sunday? Sadly it is almost always true. It certainly was today.
I start every Sunday with the client who is the most demanding of them all.
Clients come and go, live and die, come on service, drop off service and still she is around.
Not that we do not appreciate the business or anything but it is too bad she does not understand the concept of repricosity. She believes it is only about her and everyone else must defer or deter. Blah.
I was thinking to myself, after I left her home, how nice the rest of the day would be.
Clients 2 and 3 are full care, but on the way to independance again, client 4 is a joy to be around.
Client 5 is in Hospital now so client 6-7-8 would be me! Going home!!
*buzz* ---wrong answer---
Clients 2 and 3 went like a dream.
Client 4 the joy and delight did not appear to be home. I had a bad feeling. After waiting the requisite 4 minutes it would take for someone to come, slowly, to the door, I went in search of the hidden key and went in.
The usual place my dear client goes is the shower. Not in the shower.
Once the garage door was a source of confusion, and I had to liberate my client from the garage.
Today, it was not the garage. I checked the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the garage, and laundry rooms, and looked around for shoes, and coats to indicate a walk. No no no and nope.
I opened the living room curtains, and looked outside.
Nothing in the back yard. My spidie-senses were tingling.
On the concrete patio laying flat, face-up, blue-lipped, was the client.
Rushing out to check for a pulse I saw an eyelid flutter.
"I have to call for the paramedic, just wait a moment."
The client was so cold, eyes glazed over, foam from both corners of the mouth. I held a pale cold hand and spoke quietly waiting for the ambulance.
My client was muttering something almost inaudible.
"I just was getting something for the dog. He looked so hungry. I just came out to give him something to eat."
God bless the people who train us. God bless the man who long ago drilled into my cottonball head, put a blanket over any crisis victim and call 9-1-1 and while you wait keep the person calm.
The clothes had to be cut off. The shoulder was out of its socket. The right temple had a horrid contusion. The upper back was moving at cross purposes to the lower back.
And all through these manueverings the client quietly waited. No fussing.
I have a new hero.
The Paramedics in my District.
And my dear client who was most likely outside all night laying, waiting, knowing help would come. Eventually. After they left, I cleaned up as much blood as I could. It was distressing enough without the family arriving to see *that*.
I had noticed when I arrived, and again when I left that on either side of my client both neighbours had company for Mothers day. On one side they were sitting on the patio drinking coffee, and sharing chit-chat. On the other side, they were gardening. For some reason noone thought to look over the shubbery where a 80 year old hero lay.
damn it all.
----------------------
Ambrose Bierce: Patience:
A minor form of despair, disguised as a virtue.
2.5.05
A new word is learn-ed.
Steganography
\Steg`a*nog"ra*phy\, n. [Gr. ? covered (fr. ? to cover closely) + -graphy.] The art of writing in cipher, or in characters which are not intelligible except to persons who have the key; cryptography.
Yes, I like that word.
----------------
\Steg`a*nog"ra*phy\, n. [Gr. ? covered (fr. ? to cover closely) + -graphy.] The art of writing in cipher, or in characters which are not intelligible except to persons who have the key; cryptography.
Yes, I like that word.
----------------
Shutting down?
We were talking about those damned pills again.
"I only have enough for 3 weeks. I guess the Doctor didn't want to waste money on me when I am dead."
Perhaps I am over-bold but I said:
"You know I believe you go when it is your time to go. Not one minute before."
"Oh yes , I do too absolutely. But he only gave me 4 weeks you know.... and the pills will run out in less than that."
"Well then, it will give me the GREATEST of pleasures to come with you to the Pharmacy for your renewal on them."
We both laughed.
Thank God for humour.
---------------
Humor is merely tragedy standing on its head with its pants torn.
Irvin Cobb
"I only have enough for 3 weeks. I guess the Doctor didn't want to waste money on me when I am dead."
Perhaps I am over-bold but I said:
"You know I believe you go when it is your time to go. Not one minute before."
"Oh yes , I do too absolutely. But he only gave me 4 weeks you know.... and the pills will run out in less than that."
"Well then, it will give me the GREATEST of pleasures to come with you to the Pharmacy for your renewal on them."
We both laughed.
Thank God for humour.
---------------
Humor is merely tragedy standing on its head with its pants torn.
Irvin Cobb
1.5.05
Would you want to know?
Imagine yourself at the Doctor.
Imagine you have been experiencing spells of weakness. You have always had a tendency towards lethargy so you perhaps are not as alarmed as some may find themselves.
Imagine your blood counts are uncommonly low in certain areas and for a decade or so you have been given transfusions. You do not get them all that regularly, but they have been increasing in frequency. You look in the mirror and you see a change.
Now think of the worst thing a Doctor could tell you.
Is it cancer? A.I.D.S.? Brain tumour?
Would you want to know how long you had?
Would you want to know what to expect?
Most palliative clients are aware of their impending demise whether they are specifically told a timeframe or not. Most of the time, their Physician will give them a little speech along the lines of: " You can expect a natural process where the systems of the body will gently shut down"
Now: imagine that you steel yourself up for this visit. You know you do not have many years left. You hope you have a few. You sit down and your Doctor says to you:
"I am afraid your situation is very grave. You have less than 4 weeks to live."
Can you wrap your head around that one?
Then to emphasize this point your Doctor writes out a prescription for some pills you need once per day. The prescription he writes is for 25 pills.
To my mind I think it would be kinder in such a case to say to the client:
"I am afraid the situation is not what we hoped. Your cancer is terminal and I am sorry but it is a question of months, not weeks."
Sounds a little less brutal than "less than 4 weeks."
Today my client looked at me and said: "I have 21 days left."
Would you want to know?
I think a little stretch in the cruel truths of life is kinder.
---------------------
There is nothing stronger in the world than gentleness.
Suyin Han
Imagine you have been experiencing spells of weakness. You have always had a tendency towards lethargy so you perhaps are not as alarmed as some may find themselves.
Imagine your blood counts are uncommonly low in certain areas and for a decade or so you have been given transfusions. You do not get them all that regularly, but they have been increasing in frequency. You look in the mirror and you see a change.
Now think of the worst thing a Doctor could tell you.
Is it cancer? A.I.D.S.? Brain tumour?
Would you want to know how long you had?
Would you want to know what to expect?
Most palliative clients are aware of their impending demise whether they are specifically told a timeframe or not. Most of the time, their Physician will give them a little speech along the lines of: " You can expect a natural process where the systems of the body will gently shut down"
Now: imagine that you steel yourself up for this visit. You know you do not have many years left. You hope you have a few. You sit down and your Doctor says to you:
"I am afraid your situation is very grave. You have less than 4 weeks to live."
Can you wrap your head around that one?
Then to emphasize this point your Doctor writes out a prescription for some pills you need once per day. The prescription he writes is for 25 pills.
To my mind I think it would be kinder in such a case to say to the client:
"I am afraid the situation is not what we hoped. Your cancer is terminal and I am sorry but it is a question of months, not weeks."
Sounds a little less brutal than "less than 4 weeks."
Today my client looked at me and said: "I have 21 days left."
Would you want to know?
I think a little stretch in the cruel truths of life is kinder.
---------------------
There is nothing stronger in the world than gentleness.
Suyin Han
25.4.05
Tuckers big adventure
A small but very cute black dog sits wagging his tail. He is delighted.
All around the room, people are in varying states of emotional turmoil.
The dog does not seem to be affected adversely by the outpouring of sentiments.
I went outside to see what the ruckus was. The neighbourhood dogs all seemed to have joined a chorus, but over their barking I could hear a girl's voice calling: "Tucker! Tucker!"
She had been told time and again to always put her dog on a leash, but, she reasoned, she was only going to the trash bin at the end of the complex where she lived and that would make a nice little walk for her dog. Somewhere along the way, a little brown bunny panicked and jumped out of the bushes. The dog, sensing a welcome opportunity for a run, took chase.
Right at that moment one of her neighbours pulled in and I walked outside to see what the fuss was. Thankfully I held up my hand to the incoming car and it stopped just in time.
A small black dog and a smaller bunny raced past her car, oblivious.
The girlwent running after her dog but it was too late. The neighbour went driving around to look for the dog. I opened my back gate and my back door as the dog seems to like the little lane behind us. I have spotted him there offleash more than a few times.
The girl was so distraught she was praying out loud inbetween sobs.
I took her in my car and we drove up and down the streets with the window down. She called and called. The biggest concern was that the dog would go towards the Highway in the throes of animal instinct. He was too excited to heed any danger signs.
After an hour, during which time I took her home twice to check if the dog had returned.
He hadn't. I told her that he would come home eventually and probably be very affectionate
and quiet for awhile.
As we pulled in the carpark, the neighbour drove past. She rolled down her window and called to the girl. "He's home. I put him in your house."
The little girl thanked me and the other neighbour and went red-eyed into her house.
That little dog isn't even remotely remorseful. He looked rather pleased with himself last I saw.
-------------------------------------
If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mister Brave Man, I guess I am a coward.
- Jack Handey
All around the room, people are in varying states of emotional turmoil.
The dog does not seem to be affected adversely by the outpouring of sentiments.
I went outside to see what the ruckus was. The neighbourhood dogs all seemed to have joined a chorus, but over their barking I could hear a girl's voice calling: "Tucker! Tucker!"
She had been told time and again to always put her dog on a leash, but, she reasoned, she was only going to the trash bin at the end of the complex where she lived and that would make a nice little walk for her dog. Somewhere along the way, a little brown bunny panicked and jumped out of the bushes. The dog, sensing a welcome opportunity for a run, took chase.
Right at that moment one of her neighbours pulled in and I walked outside to see what the fuss was. Thankfully I held up my hand to the incoming car and it stopped just in time.
A small black dog and a smaller bunny raced past her car, oblivious.
The girlwent running after her dog but it was too late. The neighbour went driving around to look for the dog. I opened my back gate and my back door as the dog seems to like the little lane behind us. I have spotted him there offleash more than a few times.
The girl was so distraught she was praying out loud inbetween sobs.
I took her in my car and we drove up and down the streets with the window down. She called and called. The biggest concern was that the dog would go towards the Highway in the throes of animal instinct. He was too excited to heed any danger signs.
After an hour, during which time I took her home twice to check if the dog had returned.
He hadn't. I told her that he would come home eventually and probably be very affectionate
and quiet for awhile.
As we pulled in the carpark, the neighbour drove past. She rolled down her window and called to the girl. "He's home. I put him in your house."
The little girl thanked me and the other neighbour and went red-eyed into her house.
That little dog isn't even remotely remorseful. He looked rather pleased with himself last I saw.
-------------------------------------
If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mister Brave Man, I guess I am a coward.
- Jack Handey
Memory Lapse
Generally it is the client that has the memory lapse. Not always though.
A few months ago I received a terse message on both my cellphone voice mail and my home# from the Nursing Supervisor for one of the Regions. A big cheese.
"Good Morning, how did your visit with Mr. Jones go?"
"Mr. Jones?? What visit is that?"
"Didn't you go to Mr. Jones on Sunday?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because he is not on my schedule. Was I supposed to?"
She sounded very angry.
I was a tad dismayed that her opening line was asking how the visit went when obviously she knew very well I had not gone at all. Is that how they think of me?
---sigh---
Turned out it was not my fault although poor Mr. Jones had been laying in bed waiting for SOMEONE to show up. Noone did. I think he lay there until the next day. As badly as I feel for Mr. Jones, I couldn't have done anything differently. Someone forgot to call me and add him to my schedule.
Frequently with add-ons, the client will be just a one-time visit.
Frequently but NOT always.
I went today to a lovely woman who had surgery a few weeks ago. I met her on Thursday 2 weeks ago for her first visit. Today she asked me why noone came last Thursday.
I had a baaaad feeling.
She had called in but only on Saturday which of course is useless.
I told her anytime someone doesnt who when she is expecting them, call the Office and ask for Scheduling. It means that either the Scheduler or the Nurse/Intake/Worker has made an error.
Apparantly this was my error. I am sure I must have been told to add her permanently but I sure don't remember. I know the Scheduler thinks she added her.
All it takes is one person to call in sick or one client to have an emergency discharge to home with support services of 2+ times daily to screw the whole works up.
Luckily this was a low priority task or this woman would have been raising hell I am sure.
I must be getting old. (er)
-------------------------
Dory: " I suffer from short term memory loss. It runs in my family... At least I think it does... Where are they?" (Finding Nemo)
A few months ago I received a terse message on both my cellphone voice mail and my home# from the Nursing Supervisor for one of the Regions. A big cheese.
"Good Morning, how did your visit with Mr. Jones go?"
"Mr. Jones?? What visit is that?"
"Didn't you go to Mr. Jones on Sunday?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because he is not on my schedule. Was I supposed to?"
She sounded very angry.
I was a tad dismayed that her opening line was asking how the visit went when obviously she knew very well I had not gone at all. Is that how they think of me?
---sigh---
Turned out it was not my fault although poor Mr. Jones had been laying in bed waiting for SOMEONE to show up. Noone did. I think he lay there until the next day. As badly as I feel for Mr. Jones, I couldn't have done anything differently. Someone forgot to call me and add him to my schedule.
Frequently with add-ons, the client will be just a one-time visit.
Frequently but NOT always.
I went today to a lovely woman who had surgery a few weeks ago. I met her on Thursday 2 weeks ago for her first visit. Today she asked me why noone came last Thursday.
I had a baaaad feeling.
She had called in but only on Saturday which of course is useless.
I told her anytime someone doesnt who when she is expecting them, call the Office and ask for Scheduling. It means that either the Scheduler or the Nurse/Intake/Worker has made an error.
Apparantly this was my error. I am sure I must have been told to add her permanently but I sure don't remember. I know the Scheduler thinks she added her.
All it takes is one person to call in sick or one client to have an emergency discharge to home with support services of 2+ times daily to screw the whole works up.
Luckily this was a low priority task or this woman would have been raising hell I am sure.
I must be getting old. (er)
-------------------------
Dory: " I suffer from short term memory loss. It runs in my family... At least I think it does... Where are they?" (Finding Nemo)
21.4.05
The Professional
As I was stopping by my Church today I passed the Professional.
She was assisting a most elderly woman into the Church Office.
She had parked right next to me.
The Professional has a funny habit.
She befriends older people who are alone.
She comes onboard like gangbusters.
And when they go on to the next world,.....
Her profession?
She is a professional inheritor.
Every time I see her I am reminded of how the Queen referred to Diana.
"Evil among us."
--------------------------
"Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction." - Blaise Pascal
She was assisting a most elderly woman into the Church Office.
She had parked right next to me.
The Professional has a funny habit.
She befriends older people who are alone.
She comes onboard like gangbusters.
And when they go on to the next world,.....
Her profession?
She is a professional inheritor.
Every time I see her I am reminded of how the Queen referred to Diana.
"Evil among us."
--------------------------
"Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction." - Blaise Pascal
Axel grease
He came to the Office earlier in the week. He was wearing a button-up workshirt that had seen better decades. His face had smears of black on it. He had the same smears all through the hair on his head. He couldn't hear very well, he said, because his ears were plugged up with wax.
He wanted to know if we could help him. He had come over from a very small Island where he lived because the lice were getting to him. The axel grease was supposed to be a remedy but it had stopped working.
We tried to find a Doctor who would see him. Who COULD see him.
The administrative staff called every single Doctor in town. Noone could see him.
He had gone to the walk-in clinic but they had sent him to us.
A whole medical building of Doctors and Nurses and Administrators. This man did not get help. He was sent to the thrift store to buy a sleeping bag because he would not be able to get back to the Island after dark. As far as we know he slept in the park.
He was born in 1913. He had never had a Medical Card in his life. Never used the system at all. It was just the lice were getting to him.
Mister, I hope you hooked up with the Salvation Army or a Church. He needed medical services and got nothing but empty words. Even with all the Nurses on staff noone touched him.
The man needed a shower and a fresh change of clothes. He needed someone to oil his ears and show him how to do that himself to loosen any debris. It would come out naturally with a good shower after a week of being oiled. He needed someone to comb out his hair and send him home with a comb so he could do it himself.
He got words.
God forbid we actually practice on those who need it.
I am ashamed that we are government employees.
This man is a citizen for 92 years and the best we can do is talk his head off.
-------------
He wanted to know if we could help him. He had come over from a very small Island where he lived because the lice were getting to him. The axel grease was supposed to be a remedy but it had stopped working.
We tried to find a Doctor who would see him. Who COULD see him.
The administrative staff called every single Doctor in town. Noone could see him.
He had gone to the walk-in clinic but they had sent him to us.
A whole medical building of Doctors and Nurses and Administrators. This man did not get help. He was sent to the thrift store to buy a sleeping bag because he would not be able to get back to the Island after dark. As far as we know he slept in the park.
He was born in 1913. He had never had a Medical Card in his life. Never used the system at all. It was just the lice were getting to him.
Mister, I hope you hooked up with the Salvation Army or a Church. He needed medical services and got nothing but empty words. Even with all the Nurses on staff noone touched him.
The man needed a shower and a fresh change of clothes. He needed someone to oil his ears and show him how to do that himself to loosen any debris. It would come out naturally with a good shower after a week of being oiled. He needed someone to comb out his hair and send him home with a comb so he could do it himself.
He got words.
God forbid we actually practice on those who need it.
I am ashamed that we are government employees.
This man is a citizen for 92 years and the best we can do is talk his head off.
-------------
17.4.05
Last day at home.... nice to meet you.
A few years ago I had a very elderly lady on my roster. She lived with her sister, who was 3 years younger, and her son. I was amazed at her recovery. She was 92 at the time, and had just undergone surgery after a bad fall. I went off the night shift and never saw her again although from time to time I would see her name here and there on worker sheets.
This morning before I even had a chance to start my cellphone rang while I was driving.
After pulling over (and missing the call) I used my caller ID to return the call to the oncall scheduler who was rather surprised. I bet she doesnt know about *98
"I just missed your call. Sorry.. did you need me for something?"
"Oh dear. Noone is where they are supposed to be and I can't reach anyone today. I need someone to go to (ladys name). It is palliative care."
It was the sister. The door was locked but the son was in the carpark so he let me in.
I went in to the bedroom and the thin little lady there was a little surprised to see me.
Poor little maiden lady in her mid-90s requiring personal care by a total stranger.
"I am going into the Lodge tomorrow. "
"oh? You chose that now?"
"No no I had no choice. The Doctor said I HAD to go. My sister is already there you know."
"I did not know. Thank you for telling me."
These two sisters in their late 90s still have dark hair and beautiful skin.
Amazing.
Not that I did a bad job but it was a little awkward not being her regular person and not knowing her habits. She was very gracious.
Bless her heart.
--------------
This morning before I even had a chance to start my cellphone rang while I was driving.
After pulling over (and missing the call) I used my caller ID to return the call to the oncall scheduler who was rather surprised. I bet she doesnt know about *98
"I just missed your call. Sorry.. did you need me for something?"
"Oh dear. Noone is where they are supposed to be and I can't reach anyone today. I need someone to go to (ladys name). It is palliative care."
It was the sister. The door was locked but the son was in the carpark so he let me in.
I went in to the bedroom and the thin little lady there was a little surprised to see me.
Poor little maiden lady in her mid-90s requiring personal care by a total stranger.
"I am going into the Lodge tomorrow. "
"oh? You chose that now?"
"No no I had no choice. The Doctor said I HAD to go. My sister is already there you know."
"I did not know. Thank you for telling me."
These two sisters in their late 90s still have dark hair and beautiful skin.
Amazing.
Not that I did a bad job but it was a little awkward not being her regular person and not knowing her habits. She was very gracious.
Bless her heart.
--------------
Preacher-man comes a callin'
Spring in the air and hope.
I see newness all around me. People feel good when the flowers start to bloom.
People at the end of their lives perk up considerably.
One of the primary complaints I hear in my clients is loneliness. Coping with the ravages of disease or just plain old age is a lonely business. Even lonelier when you are on your own anyway. One of the nicest things a person can do is visit. Just show up.
One of the people in the community who routinely shows up is the Pastor, or Rabbi or Priest.
Today I was with my client who battles multiple myloma. She is holding her own against all odds. Her doctor told her 2 weeks ago he wished he could take her around to all the Palliative Units and show her off to the Doctors so they could see HOW well she is doing.
Her Pastor came a-callin' yesterday.
This is a man who serves God in a community with a disproportionate number of seniors.
He has clearly lost more than a few sheep from his flock.
He comes to visit and sits himself down. He coordinated his visit to coincide with a visit from my clients daughter. He looks at the daughter, looks to the client and says:
"So, have they told you how long you have?"
I kid you not.
I asked my client what sort of thing was said in return.
"I didn't say anything at all. And from now on I am not home to Pastors. He is too busy planning my memorial to hear or see me."
I think so too.
--------------------
"Remember, when you're driving through Amish country and you see a man with his arm up a horses ass... he's a mechanic."- Robin Williams
I see newness all around me. People feel good when the flowers start to bloom.
People at the end of their lives perk up considerably.
One of the primary complaints I hear in my clients is loneliness. Coping with the ravages of disease or just plain old age is a lonely business. Even lonelier when you are on your own anyway. One of the nicest things a person can do is visit. Just show up.
One of the people in the community who routinely shows up is the Pastor, or Rabbi or Priest.
Today I was with my client who battles multiple myloma. She is holding her own against all odds. Her doctor told her 2 weeks ago he wished he could take her around to all the Palliative Units and show her off to the Doctors so they could see HOW well she is doing.
Her Pastor came a-callin' yesterday.
This is a man who serves God in a community with a disproportionate number of seniors.
He has clearly lost more than a few sheep from his flock.
He comes to visit and sits himself down. He coordinated his visit to coincide with a visit from my clients daughter. He looks at the daughter, looks to the client and says:
"So, have they told you how long you have?"
I kid you not.
I asked my client what sort of thing was said in return.
"I didn't say anything at all. And from now on I am not home to Pastors. He is too busy planning my memorial to hear or see me."
I think so too.
--------------------
"Remember, when you're driving through Amish country and you see a man with his arm up a horses ass... he's a mechanic."- Robin Williams
14.4.05
Its tiring....
I came home yesterday from a particularly trying week.
It is not physically trying. It is mentally gruelling.
Of my own clientelle there were 4 deaths in the last 2 weeks.
Only one of those deaths was expected.
I read the 5th death in the paper. Noone called to tell me. Who am I after all? Just the person who filled in the hours a couple of days a week. The person who heard all the cherished dreams that never were, the person who listened to the hopes that were never to be fulfilled.
The person who leaves to go home and never again is thought of by the family in their catastrophic loss.
I wish SOMEONE would tell me these things before I read them in the press.
It kind of hurts.
I put the newspaper down and lay on the couch. I slept for 3.5 hours and then got up and went to bed to sleep another 9 hours. It was like falling down a very deep well.
--------------------
It is not physically trying. It is mentally gruelling.
Of my own clientelle there were 4 deaths in the last 2 weeks.
Only one of those deaths was expected.
I read the 5th death in the paper. Noone called to tell me. Who am I after all? Just the person who filled in the hours a couple of days a week. The person who heard all the cherished dreams that never were, the person who listened to the hopes that were never to be fulfilled.
The person who leaves to go home and never again is thought of by the family in their catastrophic loss.
I wish SOMEONE would tell me these things before I read them in the press.
It kind of hurts.
I put the newspaper down and lay on the couch. I slept for 3.5 hours and then got up and went to bed to sleep another 9 hours. It was like falling down a very deep well.
--------------------
12.4.05
I'm awaiting my visitation
It is cold; April 12th and cold. My fingers are cold. My feet are cold. My heart is beating slowly from the cold.
After a week of ailing, I am feeling better except for this coldness.
I was snacking on a yoghurt when suddenly I felt the urge for a cheesebun. I was tucking away the cheesebun when chocolate chips came to my mind and lips. Pretzels. Cheerios.
Another yoghurt. More cheese.
Yup, still cold.
The timechange wreaks havoc with my system. Instead of awakening at 5am it is 6.
Instead of the leisurely lounging about at the beach before work,it is a drive sipping coffee.
Perhaps this weekend I can get myself straightened out.
First though, I want to warm up.
------------
"In the cool, cool night
And in the middle of the day
Im watching my back
Im waiting my visitation ... " snipped from Frank Black (album) "Cult of Ray" (song) 'Men in Black'
After a week of ailing, I am feeling better except for this coldness.
I was snacking on a yoghurt when suddenly I felt the urge for a cheesebun. I was tucking away the cheesebun when chocolate chips came to my mind and lips. Pretzels. Cheerios.
Another yoghurt. More cheese.
Yup, still cold.
The timechange wreaks havoc with my system. Instead of awakening at 5am it is 6.
Instead of the leisurely lounging about at the beach before work,it is a drive sipping coffee.
Perhaps this weekend I can get myself straightened out.
First though, I want to warm up.
------------
"In the cool, cool night
And in the middle of the day
Im watching my back
Im waiting my visitation ... " snipped from Frank Black (album) "Cult of Ray" (song) 'Men in Black'
Studying Science from above
When a client goes into hospital, if it is just a temporary stay, they show up on the schedule as time reserved. I will get sent other places but that time is held for them until they come out again. I had my Mondays and Thursdays held for the very nice gentleman who had a minor stroke.
Today's paper contained his obituary. I was a little surprised as this man is only 66 which is young by our standards. Most of my clientelle is over 80 with a fair sprinkling of 90 yr olds and one or two in their hundreds. Still he is gone. Only 66.
The botany lessons in the forest trails are over; now he is learning from the Master.
Damn I wish someone would tell me these things before I read them in the paper. That is two people this week that I had no expectation of their imminent demise, imminently demising.
I wish I had something profound to say to express this loss.
The fact is, I am just very surprised. And sad.
---------------
Deception about our feelings will result in bondage. Truth, however, can free us.
--------
Creator,
God,
You gave us a wonderful gift when you gave us the capacity to feel.
You gave us the ability to laugh, to celebrate and to love.
You also gave us the ability to be angry at injustice, to fear danger and to grieve over our losses.
Give us wisdom to respect our feelings as they come and go.
Give us honesty to live with our feelings and to talk to you and others about them.
Give us compassion to care for each other when feelings are intense.
We ask this in the name of Jesus who wept when it was time for weeping. Amen
Today's paper contained his obituary. I was a little surprised as this man is only 66 which is young by our standards. Most of my clientelle is over 80 with a fair sprinkling of 90 yr olds and one or two in their hundreds. Still he is gone. Only 66.
The botany lessons in the forest trails are over; now he is learning from the Master.
Damn I wish someone would tell me these things before I read them in the paper. That is two people this week that I had no expectation of their imminent demise, imminently demising.
I wish I had something profound to say to express this loss.
The fact is, I am just very surprised. And sad.
---------------
Deception about our feelings will result in bondage. Truth, however, can free us.
--------
Creator,
God,
You gave us a wonderful gift when you gave us the capacity to feel.
You gave us the ability to laugh, to celebrate and to love.
You also gave us the ability to be angry at injustice, to fear danger and to grieve over our losses.
Give us wisdom to respect our feelings as they come and go.
Give us honesty to live with our feelings and to talk to you and others about them.
Give us compassion to care for each other when feelings are intense.
We ask this in the name of Jesus who wept when it was time for weeping. Amen
11.4.05
Finally: I find my peer group!
Here I thought I was a one-off.
Perhaps one of a lost tribe.
People who come to my home, admittedly not many, either think of it as very odd or very cool.
Mostly it is the clocks they wonder about. Why do I need so many.
Need?
Victoriana is how some sum my taste up. It's just me.
Me and a few other n(word for persons in their 90s)-genarians.
Today I had the great pleasure of meeting a woman with compatible taste to my own.
It was so satisfying watching her watching me.
I know it sounds peculiar but there is a palatable pleasure in appreciation.
We were walking past her grande piano and I commented on the Liberace-worthy chandelier that graced its' body. Mmmm piano. Mmmm, crystal.
Past the icons in the hall. Past the gilt mirrors and the watercoloured landscapes, the shelves of leatherbound books the wrought iron settee... etc etc
I looked out the back windows to the 7th green. Light and space.
Not only was her home beautiful, it was livable. And obviously well-used.
We talked about many things; mostly she criticized the state of healthcare.
Not me or my co-workers, the whole Healthcare Industry.
She is a person who strongly believes in holistic medicine.
She did have surgery recently but it was absolutely essential.
Now that she is home, she is working hard at recovery.
I was very happy that she has a health-minded approach to life. She takes greens to replenish her deficiencies. She walks as she can. She plays bridge regularly.
I thought she was around 78, perhaps as much as 81.
She is 93.
YOU GO!!
Boy, I love to see people enjoying their retirements.
Nevermind retirement, enjoying their lives.
I hope she stays as present as she is now, all the days of her life.
-----------------------
“If [dabbling in art] didn’t amuse me, I beg you to believe that I wouldn’t do it.” Renoir
Perhaps one of a lost tribe.
People who come to my home, admittedly not many, either think of it as very odd or very cool.
Mostly it is the clocks they wonder about. Why do I need so many.
Need?
Victoriana is how some sum my taste up. It's just me.
Me and a few other n(word for persons in their 90s)-genarians.
Today I had the great pleasure of meeting a woman with compatible taste to my own.
It was so satisfying watching her watching me.
I know it sounds peculiar but there is a palatable pleasure in appreciation.
We were walking past her grande piano and I commented on the Liberace-worthy chandelier that graced its' body. Mmmm piano. Mmmm, crystal.
Past the icons in the hall. Past the gilt mirrors and the watercoloured landscapes, the shelves of leatherbound books the wrought iron settee... etc etc
I looked out the back windows to the 7th green. Light and space.
Not only was her home beautiful, it was livable. And obviously well-used.
We talked about many things; mostly she criticized the state of healthcare.
Not me or my co-workers, the whole Healthcare Industry.
She is a person who strongly believes in holistic medicine.
She did have surgery recently but it was absolutely essential.
Now that she is home, she is working hard at recovery.
I was very happy that she has a health-minded approach to life. She takes greens to replenish her deficiencies. She walks as she can. She plays bridge regularly.
I thought she was around 78, perhaps as much as 81.
She is 93.
YOU GO!!
Boy, I love to see people enjoying their retirements.
Nevermind retirement, enjoying their lives.
I hope she stays as present as she is now, all the days of her life.
-----------------------
“If [dabbling in art] didn’t amuse me, I beg you to believe that I wouldn’t do it.” Renoir
10.4.05
Getting your heart's desire
There was a client who I had conflict with when I first began my Community rotations.
The basic trouble was my not understanding what it was I was supposed to be doing there.
It seemed so silly and she was so capable. Why we were there was not clear.
She complained about me and I was yanked from her schedule.
A few months later she showed up on my night schedule.
I would tell her to get up and get moving or one day she would not be able to.
"oh honey, I know you mean well but you don't understand, I just can't."
"oh yes you can. You won't. Come on get up and I will take you out for dinner."
By golly if she didn't get up and dressed and out we went.
Thereafter once a month I would take her out for dinner. I was able to do this as I was scheduled to be her dinner girl and her nighttime girl. This was a total of 1.25 hours.
I also had my dinner break in there. So I lumped them together and I took her to various restaurants around the area. Inevitably she would suggest places I never would go to.
Why? Because I can't afford to. But there was an opportunity for me as a person not as an employee or a Nurse or anything else, just me as a person to reach out and touch someone.
Naturally she would forget her wallet or be short on cash so early on, in fact from the very beginning I just budgetted this in my month. She would always protest but I knew she knew I knew..... (etc etc) We would be served. This *Served* part was very important to her.
I believe this was the key thing that she liked about being sick. Someone comes in and serves you. If you get better, say goodbye to all the attention.
I would talk to her about her family and her life and her loves. She had a wonderful childhood and a mother who was fabulous. She was spoiled of course. Once she went out in the world she met a fellow who was charming but completely irresponsible. They married and had children and made a go of it until she found out how much money he owed her parents.
A few rough years on her own and then she met the love of her life. He was an older man who adored her. They had some great years and then suddenly he died.
"A part of me died that day honey. There will never be anyone else for me."
"Dont say that! You dont know what is around the next corner."
"Yes I do. I just wish it could be sooner."
When I went on the dayshift I rarely saw her on a regular basis.
When I did, I was shocked to see she had gained about 80 pounds.
A few times in the morning I would have to put her in the shower and change her bedding due to incontinence.
"I am so sorry honey. I just couldnt make it to the commode."
The commode was RIGHT beside the bed.
"Aren't you cold? You are lying in cold urine?"
"Oh honey don't be mad at me. I just couldn't get up."
"No you WOULDNT get up. But you better start getting up or soon you wont be able to for real."
"oh we're back to that are we?"
I was so sad. She was folding up right in front of me.
Capable and smart and very self-directed and yet she was choosing to live poorly.
I saw her last week. She was soaked in urine and the sheets were wet.
"That's just the way it is these days honey."
She had just had the laundry done the day before and there were 2 full garbage bags in the tub with wet things to be laundered. I could see it was a great effort to her just being up.
Oh yes, she got up.
" I saw your name on the schedule and called in to confirm it. I couldnt believe it. After all this time finally you're back! I double checked yesterday too just in case she changed you."
"I was surprised too."
"Honey, you don't know how much I miss those nights out. We will go again soon ok?"
"Sure," I said. "call me anytime."
"Tell not to forget Auntie Nora."
"Okay my LADY Nora. "
I always called her Lady Nora to her face telling her she should have a staff of twenty attending her. It was one of the things she hated about me in the beginning and grew to love after awhile. I refused to treat her as if she was ill. I treated her as if she was well.
After I left, perhaps an hour later, she dialled 9-1-1
Lady Nora died in the regional hospital at the age of 72 of a broken heart.
It goes to show you what determination does.
Be careful what you wish for.
Farewell Lady Nora.
You surprised me.
I thought you had a few more rounds in you.
But I understand completely, you were done long ago.
I wish life had been more fulfilling for you.
I wish with all the service you got, you could have experienced some degree of happiness.
Perhaps you did.
----------------------------
Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved. Willians jennings Bryan.
The basic trouble was my not understanding what it was I was supposed to be doing there.
It seemed so silly and she was so capable. Why we were there was not clear.
She complained about me and I was yanked from her schedule.
A few months later she showed up on my night schedule.
I would tell her to get up and get moving or one day she would not be able to.
"oh honey, I know you mean well but you don't understand, I just can't."
"oh yes you can. You won't. Come on get up and I will take you out for dinner."
By golly if she didn't get up and dressed and out we went.
Thereafter once a month I would take her out for dinner. I was able to do this as I was scheduled to be her dinner girl and her nighttime girl. This was a total of 1.25 hours.
I also had my dinner break in there. So I lumped them together and I took her to various restaurants around the area. Inevitably she would suggest places I never would go to.
Why? Because I can't afford to. But there was an opportunity for me as a person not as an employee or a Nurse or anything else, just me as a person to reach out and touch someone.
Naturally she would forget her wallet or be short on cash so early on, in fact from the very beginning I just budgetted this in my month. She would always protest but I knew she knew I knew..... (etc etc) We would be served. This *Served* part was very important to her.
I believe this was the key thing that she liked about being sick. Someone comes in and serves you. If you get better, say goodbye to all the attention.
I would talk to her about her family and her life and her loves. She had a wonderful childhood and a mother who was fabulous. She was spoiled of course. Once she went out in the world she met a fellow who was charming but completely irresponsible. They married and had children and made a go of it until she found out how much money he owed her parents.
A few rough years on her own and then she met the love of her life. He was an older man who adored her. They had some great years and then suddenly he died.
"A part of me died that day honey. There will never be anyone else for me."
"Dont say that! You dont know what is around the next corner."
"Yes I do. I just wish it could be sooner."
When I went on the dayshift I rarely saw her on a regular basis.
When I did, I was shocked to see she had gained about 80 pounds.
A few times in the morning I would have to put her in the shower and change her bedding due to incontinence.
"I am so sorry honey. I just couldnt make it to the commode."
The commode was RIGHT beside the bed.
"Aren't you cold? You are lying in cold urine?"
"Oh honey don't be mad at me. I just couldn't get up."
"No you WOULDNT get up. But you better start getting up or soon you wont be able to for real."
"oh we're back to that are we?"
I was so sad. She was folding up right in front of me.
Capable and smart and very self-directed and yet she was choosing to live poorly.
I saw her last week. She was soaked in urine and the sheets were wet.
"That's just the way it is these days honey."
She had just had the laundry done the day before and there were 2 full garbage bags in the tub with wet things to be laundered. I could see it was a great effort to her just being up.
Oh yes, she got up.
" I saw your name on the schedule and called in to confirm it. I couldnt believe it. After all this time finally you're back! I double checked yesterday too just in case she changed you."
"I was surprised too."
"Honey, you don't know how much I miss those nights out. We will go again soon ok?"
"Sure," I said. "call me anytime."
"Tell
"Okay my LADY Nora. "
I always called her Lady Nora to her face telling her she should have a staff of twenty attending her. It was one of the things she hated about me in the beginning and grew to love after awhile. I refused to treat her as if she was ill. I treated her as if she was well.
After I left, perhaps an hour later, she dialled 9-1-1
Lady Nora died in the regional hospital at the age of 72 of a broken heart.
It goes to show you what determination does.
Be careful what you wish for.
Farewell Lady Nora.
You surprised me.
I thought you had a few more rounds in you.
But I understand completely, you were done long ago.
I wish life had been more fulfilling for you.
I wish with all the service you got, you could have experienced some degree of happiness.
Perhaps you did.
----------------------------
Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved. Willians jennings Bryan.
7.4.05
Dear Reader
*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~
Dear Reader:
You are NOT totally and irrevocably responsible for everything and everyone.
That's MY job.
Love,
God
*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~
Dear Reader:
You are NOT totally and irrevocably responsible for everything and everyone.
That's MY job.
Love,
God
*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~*~#~
6.4.05
God Bless Reactin
A very good thing has happened!!
After the 24 hours to get Claritin out of my system I once again was ready for pharmaceuticals.
I asked the druggist the differences between the two commonly used active ingredients and understood that if Claritin did not work for me(which it did not) the other one likely could.
Clutching my Reactin in my sleep deprived hand I left the pharmacy wearing my dacron vest over my nightshirt and purple pants. No wonder the Pharmacist looked so concerned.
I went to my Dad's for comfort as I was feeling very poorly indeed and was somewhat scared of respiratory distress as you, gentle reader already know.
IT WORKED!
It has been almost 2 hours since I took it and I am feeling better. My eyes are not streaming, my airways are somewhat clearer and most importantly, I can lower my head without suffocating.
God bless Reactin!
Thank you thank you thank you!
Okay so I show my wuzzy side.
Sue me.
-------------------
=============
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"The best part of being alive is BEING. " ---me!
After the 24 hours to get Claritin out of my system I once again was ready for pharmaceuticals.
I asked the druggist the differences between the two commonly used active ingredients and understood that if Claritin did not work for me(which it did not) the other one likely could.
Clutching my Reactin in my sleep deprived hand I left the pharmacy wearing my dacron vest over my nightshirt and purple pants. No wonder the Pharmacist looked so concerned.
I went to my Dad's for comfort as I was feeling very poorly indeed and was somewhat scared of respiratory distress as you, gentle reader already know.
IT WORKED!
It has been almost 2 hours since I took it and I am feeling better. My eyes are not streaming, my airways are somewhat clearer and most importantly, I can lower my head without suffocating.
God bless Reactin!
Thank you thank you thank you!
Okay so I show my wuzzy side.
Sue me.
-------------------
=============
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"The best part of being alive is BEING. " ---me!
5.4.05
"You still doing that Bog?"
Yes Mr. Knoclue, I am still *bog*-ing.
Boggling.
De-virused my olde trusty machine and to my delight the underlined (not underling as previously stated, a MUDders typo) text thingees are gone as are the obnoxious "web Offers."
I managed to retain the magic wand and the theme.
Ezula and all those rotten spywares are gone.
The only bundle I really applaud is Trillian with the Wikipedia that loads on a dime.
It really IS cool.
Come on Blog-spot, get us Wikipedia-ed.
---------------------------
Boggling.
De-virused my olde trusty machine and to my delight the underlined (not underling as previously stated, a MUDders typo) text thingees are gone as are the obnoxious "web Offers."
I managed to retain the magic wand and the theme.
Ezula and all those rotten spywares are gone.
The only bundle I really applaud is Trillian with the Wikipedia that loads on a dime.
It really IS cool.
Come on Blog-spot, get us Wikipedia-ed.
---------------------------
...about that magic wand...
all right so I got a little off topic back there....
I was thinking about my magic wand cursor.
It started about the time I got myself a new desktop theme.
Now before you start saying aha and serves me right I want you to know I scanned the file I downloaded and made sure it was not from that awful site that is mirrored a thousand times the world over that bundles themes with six different kinds of spyware and trojans.
All the same, suddenly I have Web offers popping up every few minutes and of course there is the matter of that nasty text underling here which for all I know could very well originate on this machine here, the beauteous and sedate Aptiva.
Yes yes its spyware. Once again I fell for something sparkling and shiny only to be used like last months something or t'other.
*sniff*
I am going to miss this magic wand.
It came in handy. Even if it was from Troy.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=
I was thinking about my magic wand cursor.
It started about the time I got myself a new desktop theme.
Now before you start saying aha and serves me right I want you to know I scanned the file I downloaded and made sure it was not from that awful site that is mirrored a thousand times the world over that bundles themes with six different kinds of spyware and trojans.
All the same, suddenly I have Web offers popping up every few minutes and of course there is the matter of that nasty text underling here which for all I know could very well originate on this machine here, the beauteous and sedate Aptiva.
Yes yes its spyware. Once again I fell for something sparkling and shiny only to be used like last months something or t'other.
*sniff*
I am going to miss this magic wand.
It came in handy. Even if it was from Troy.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=
What do you MEAN my magic wand is a trojan?
Disillusionment envelopes me. My glittering sparkling magic wand cursor is a trojan. hmph.
When I was downgraded to this Aptiva computer of mine from my screaming Pentium 4 with 1 Gig of Memory... or wait, is that a false memory rearing it's ugly head? No I think I really did have a better computer last month. It could process a Seti@home unit in 4 and a bit hours. This one is on hour 47 and not even close to done.
Still, I am online and happy and I dont really need to download every single episode of Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, Absolutely Fabulous, Black Adder and Corner Gas... do I? Not on this machine anyway.
I am in the debt of some friends I met online who live in Macedonia.
When I could not find the drivers for this machine on the IBM site I took it to the local professional. He told me he gave up looking after one hour and a half. "They don't exist", he said. "Your computer is too old."
I live in the upperclass resort town so naturally most of his customers would counter with something like: " For Heavens sake my good man, sell me something decent and take this clunker off my hands."
I just said thanks and went home and sent out the distress call.
My Macedonian friends told me they do not have the luxury of newness for many things so they know how to fix things. They told me it took them longer to compose me the email than to find and attach the drivers.
Aptiva machines have the drivers on the motherboard for sound, usb etc.
My display had been stuck in hokey 16 color mode which is fine for text but rather obnoxious for any site with a plug-in. MOST sites.
After I installed the drivers I still had no sound but the display was perfect and I certainly wouldnt have complained. One of the fellas asked me how the sound was. "oh we forgot to send the sound driver" he said and voila... it arrived the next day.
So my friend in Macedonia who builds motorcycles for a living did me a wonderful turn while the man who would charge me the big dineros told me this machine is "too olde" with "non-existant drivers no longer available."
Thank you so much Morg and Rad and Dada. I know you dont read my blog nor even know I have one. But those who do should know that they are still people in the world who would help a total stranger for no profit at all to themselves just because they believe it is the right thing TO do.
I cannot tell you how happy I am on this old Aptiva.
It just hums along processing slow slow slow even on my lightning fast connection and boy, do I love it.
There is a Barbra Streisand song in here somewhere.
;P
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
When I was downgraded to this Aptiva computer of mine from my screaming Pentium 4 with 1 Gig of Memory... or wait, is that a false memory rearing it's ugly head? No I think I really did have a better computer last month. It could process a Seti@home unit in 4 and a bit hours. This one is on hour 47 and not even close to done.
Still, I am online and happy and I dont really need to download every single episode of Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, Absolutely Fabulous, Black Adder and Corner Gas... do I? Not on this machine anyway.
I am in the debt of some friends I met online who live in Macedonia.
When I could not find the drivers for this machine on the IBM site I took it to the local professional. He told me he gave up looking after one hour and a half. "They don't exist", he said. "Your computer is too old."
I live in the upperclass resort town so naturally most of his customers would counter with something like: " For Heavens sake my good man, sell me something decent and take this clunker off my hands."
I just said thanks and went home and sent out the distress call.
My Macedonian friends told me they do not have the luxury of newness for many things so they know how to fix things. They told me it took them longer to compose me the email than to find and attach the drivers.
Aptiva machines have the drivers on the motherboard for sound, usb etc.
My display had been stuck in hokey 16 color mode which is fine for text but rather obnoxious for any site with a plug-in. MOST sites.
After I installed the drivers I still had no sound but the display was perfect and I certainly wouldnt have complained. One of the fellas asked me how the sound was. "oh we forgot to send the sound driver" he said and voila... it arrived the next day.
So my friend in Macedonia who builds motorcycles for a living did me a wonderful turn while the man who would charge me the big dineros told me this machine is "too olde" with "non-existant drivers no longer available."
Thank you so much Morg and Rad and Dada. I know you dont read my blog nor even know I have one. But those who do should know that they are still people in the world who would help a total stranger for no profit at all to themselves just because they believe it is the right thing TO do.
I cannot tell you how happy I am on this old Aptiva.
It just hums along processing slow slow slow even on my lightning fast connection and boy, do I love it.
There is a Barbra Streisand song in here somewhere.
;P
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
4.4.05
Broom to the left of me; Broom to the right of me!
Like purple loosestrife and cane toads, once upon a time there was no broom native to this Island. Some well-meaning soul, thinking of home, imported it to beautiful their personal garden. Now, we all "enjoy" it as it lines the highways, ditches and formerly available to local flora, earthen recepticles.
Nothing eats it, no birds pluck it for their young, and it is dominating the plantscape here. Perhaps it even has displaced the loosestrife.
I always know when the Broom is in bloom.
It is the day I awaken with ten sneezes and go through tissue boxes like herskey's kisses.
I was encouraged by some research being conducted in the UK for allergy and asthma suffers. I would even volunteer to test out this new protein when it is synthesized into some oral or transdermal drug. Just please gardeners, stop with the foreign varieties already!
Claritin doesn't work for me. Even my stalward Flovent isn't working this year and frankly, I resemble Niagra Falls more by the hour.
God bless the Broom. In Scotland.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
btw: these yellow double-underlined links have NOTHING to do with me. I cannot really complain as blogspace is currently free.
I was comtemplating doing pod-casts but imagine the mayhem.....
Nothing eats it, no birds pluck it for their young, and it is dominating the plantscape here. Perhaps it even has displaced the loosestrife.
I always know when the Broom is in bloom.
It is the day I awaken with ten sneezes and go through tissue boxes like herskey's kisses.
I was encouraged by some research being conducted in the UK for allergy and asthma suffers. I would even volunteer to test out this new protein when it is synthesized into some oral or transdermal drug. Just please gardeners, stop with the foreign varieties already!
Claritin doesn't work for me. Even my stalward Flovent isn't working this year and frankly, I resemble Niagra Falls more by the hour.
God bless the Broom. In Scotland.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
btw: these yellow double-underlined links have NOTHING to do with me. I cannot really complain as blogspace is currently free.
I was comtemplating doing pod-casts but imagine the mayhem.....
3.4.05
That I might not cause pain!
I had referred to Jabez a few days back and his prayer recorded in Chronicles.
When the Jabez bandwagon rolled on into town, I was somewhat aghast as the prosperity gospel has never appealed to me nor seemed particularly Christlike.
Praying for more more MORE seems like a prayer to the wrong deity.
I do not believe Christ came to instruct us to live more conspicuously and with greater oppulence. That is Hollywood and the Media's job.
I believe Christ came to tell us to share what we have been blessed with, and remember those who have not been as fortunate as we have. Remembering them with more than braincells.
I do like the part in the Jabez prayer where *I* have inferred it to mean a request to God for helping living in a manner that does not cause others pain.
Read this:
http://www.lostjabez.com/jabez/fromjabez.htm
Kinda makes you wonder, does it not?
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"What is truth? Is mine the same as yours?"
Pontius Pilate to Jesus
(Jesus Christ, Superstar)
When the Jabez bandwagon rolled on into town, I was somewhat aghast as the prosperity gospel has never appealed to me nor seemed particularly Christlike.
Praying for more more MORE seems like a prayer to the wrong deity.
I do not believe Christ came to instruct us to live more conspicuously and with greater oppulence. That is Hollywood and the Media's job.
I believe Christ came to tell us to share what we have been blessed with, and remember those who have not been as fortunate as we have. Remembering them with more than braincells.
I do like the part in the Jabez prayer where *I* have inferred it to mean a request to God for helping living in a manner that does not cause others pain.
Read this:
http://www.lostjabez.com/jabez/fromjabez.htm
Kinda makes you wonder, does it not?
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"What is truth? Is mine the same as yours?"
Pontius Pilate to Jesus
(Jesus Christ, Superstar)
An excellent quote for an excellent Sunday!
Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried.
G. K. Chesterton
G. K. Chesterton
Goodbye Pope John-Paul II
With a mix of sorrow and joy, I bid farewell to one of my heroes.
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/mid/w/a/wasavior.mid
The Pope.
Here in an age where rewriting rethinking reconstructing is what is politically correct, this man stood tall and firm, and never apologised for his conviction that he was doing the will of God as revealed to him.
Catholics everywhere mourn him. Politicians and leaders are booking flights to attend his funeral. I will stop my day and watch his funeral mass also.
God used him MIGHTILY.
Goodbye to you, man of sorrows.
Goodbye and thank-you for your dedication and devotion to the poor and downtrodden.
Thank you for your standing up to evil in all forms.
Thank you for showing the entire world the face of a man who sees God.
I hope one day to see you!
-----*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*-----
Man of Sorrows! what a name
For the Son of God, Who came
Ruined sinners to reclaim.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned He stood;
Sealed my pardon with His blood.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Guilty, vile, and helpless we;
Spotless Lamb of God was He;
“Full atonement!” can it be?
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Lifted up was He to die;
“It is finished!” was His cry;
Now in Heav’n exalted high.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
When He comes, our glorious King,
All His ransomed home to bring,
Then anew His song we’ll sing:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Words & Music:
Philip P. Bliss
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/mid/w/a/wasavior.mid
The Pope.
Here in an age where rewriting rethinking reconstructing is what is politically correct, this man stood tall and firm, and never apologised for his conviction that he was doing the will of God as revealed to him.
Catholics everywhere mourn him. Politicians and leaders are booking flights to attend his funeral. I will stop my day and watch his funeral mass also.
God used him MIGHTILY.
Goodbye to you, man of sorrows.
Goodbye and thank-you for your dedication and devotion to the poor and downtrodden.
Thank you for your standing up to evil in all forms.
Thank you for showing the entire world the face of a man who sees God.
I hope one day to see you!
-----*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*-----
Man of Sorrows! what a name
For the Son of God, Who came
Ruined sinners to reclaim.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned He stood;
Sealed my pardon with His blood.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Guilty, vile, and helpless we;
Spotless Lamb of God was He;
“Full atonement!” can it be?
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Lifted up was He to die;
“It is finished!” was His cry;
Now in Heav’n exalted high.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
When He comes, our glorious King,
All His ransomed home to bring,
Then anew His song we’ll sing:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Words & Music:
Philip P. Bliss
2.4.05
Daylight Savings
The clock was set forward an hour last night before bed.
Typically my awakening time is 5am. Somehow even with daylight savings I managed this.
Cobwebs still dangling in my noodled bits, the first moments of today were spent wondering how on earth I could forget the words to "Tommy, the Rock Opera" in front of so many people. It was all the more mortifying when it was me who did the casting.
I cast myself in the role of the Acid Queen. I was kissing one of the boys in the chorus when I realised I was supposed to be on stage.
Faking it doesn't come easily to me. Not in front of thousands of people at least.
I hummed and gesticulated and hoofed it but the words would not come.
Damn!
I was brushing my teeth, still boggling over how stupid I was to forget not only my entrance, but my words too. brush brush brush!
Think think think!
Brush brush brush!
Wait a minute.
Damn it Jim, I am a Nurse not a rockstar!
Hang on! daylight savings is tomorrow!
ouch!
---0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0---
"gather your wits and hold on fast,
your mind must learn to roam,
Just as the gypsy queen must do
You're gonna hit the road.
"My work is done, now look at him!
He's never been more alive.
His head it shakes, his fingers clutch,
watch his body writhe!
"I'm the gypsy, the acid queen
Pay before we start.
I'm the gypsy. I'm guaranteed
to break your little heart!"
---the Who "tommy"
Typically my awakening time is 5am. Somehow even with daylight savings I managed this.
Cobwebs still dangling in my noodled bits, the first moments of today were spent wondering how on earth I could forget the words to "Tommy, the Rock Opera" in front of so many people. It was all the more mortifying when it was me who did the casting.
I cast myself in the role of the Acid Queen. I was kissing one of the boys in the chorus when I realised I was supposed to be on stage.
Faking it doesn't come easily to me. Not in front of thousands of people at least.
I hummed and gesticulated and hoofed it but the words would not come.
Damn!
I was brushing my teeth, still boggling over how stupid I was to forget not only my entrance, but my words too. brush brush brush!
Think think think!
Brush brush brush!
Wait a minute.
Damn it Jim, I am a Nurse not a rockstar!
Hang on! daylight savings is tomorrow!
ouch!
---0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0---
"gather your wits and hold on fast,
your mind must learn to roam,
Just as the gypsy queen must do
You're gonna hit the road.
"My work is done, now look at him!
He's never been more alive.
His head it shakes, his fingers clutch,
watch his body writhe!
"I'm the gypsy, the acid queen
Pay before we start.
I'm the gypsy. I'm guaranteed
to break your little heart!"
---the Who "tommy"
1.4.05
Fools rush in!!
After last night's storm, when March roared out lion-style, today dawned damp but not blustery. That came later.
Playing around with numbers is one of my favourite pursuits. Pondering physics another.
Today I lay abed thinking a good big think!
Too late I remembered the significance of April first!
No jokes for me, not even salt in the sugar.
Just a wonderful peaceful GORGEOUS time of thinking.
Hurrah!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Fortune, seeing that she could not make fools wise, has made them lucky.
Michel Eyquem de Montaigne
Playing around with numbers is one of my favourite pursuits. Pondering physics another.
Today I lay abed thinking a good big think!
Too late I remembered the significance of April first!
No jokes for me, not even salt in the sugar.
Just a wonderful peaceful GORGEOUS time of thinking.
Hurrah!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Fortune, seeing that she could not make fools wise, has made them lucky.
Michel Eyquem de Montaigne
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
