Since I've become a lapsed Methodist (the once/month trip to the Baptist church with The D should count for something), I've developed my own little Sunday morning routine. If I feel like it, I fix french toast or pancakes for Daddy (he doesn't like my scrambled eggs). I made french toast yesterday so didn't offer this morning. Then I sit on the sofa in the living room and watch CBS Sunday morning with him. He's gotten me hooked on that show. I sift through the newspaper and pull out the parts I want to read. I get a pad and a pencil so I can jot down notes. All kinds of good info. Things I want to remember. Great sales, cool websites, coming events, books I want to read. You get the idea. Of course, I always lose the list.
I get the plastic box of pill bottles. I empty them out and put the bag of refills in a separate pile. I get my excel spreadsheet which lists the pills and their dosages in columns labeled AM and PM. I pop open all 14 compartments and arrange them so the blue (PM) compartments are away from me and the red (AM) compartments are facing me. Important for my dyslexia. I start at the top of the list. His blood pressure medicine is a little blue pill which has to be cut in half. Luckily it's kind of long and thin so I can break it in two with my fingers. And its the only one I have to split. Except today, I was short one 20 mg Lipitor pill so I had to use the half a 40 mg sample pill. It's not scored but I was able to break it with my fingers. The pill cutter thing is a pain in the ass.
I go down the list of pills until I get to the end. I consolidate duplicate bottles along the way, being careful to put them in the newer one so I can see the last refill date. Oh, opening the refills that come prefilled by the manufacturer instead of the pharmacist is a pain in the ass, too. Those stupid foil tops. I hadn't gotten my pen and paper for my newspaper note-taking yet, so luckily I reached into the end table drawer and found one of those converters for three-pronged electrical cords to fit into two-pronged outlets. I used it to stab the foil. So glad I didn't have to take everything off my lap and get up to find a puncturing tool. It's impossibe to do with your fingers.
After the consolidation procedure, I put everything back in the plastic bin. I take a look at the pill boxes to see that they look right. I used to count every compartment's pills, but I've relaxed about that. I got up and gave The D his Sunday morning pills. I showed him that the PM compartments had two turquoise pills instead of one burgundy pill. I explained that I was trying to use up the half strength ones. He wanted to know what it was for - Shingles. He seemed satisfied.
I used to peel the labels off the empty pill bottles so there wouldn't be any info about his pills in the dump, but then I figured no one would try to break into our house for Lipitor or Namenda. Except I hear there are lots of seniors who have to spend their whole social security check on prescriptions - they might be desperate enough to try. But I'm taking my chances.
Big relief to have completed my dispensary job. So I could start the pleasant part of my routine.
When CBS Sunday morning ends, The D goes on his daily constitutional. Then I realize Face the Nation is on, so I get the remote and change it to HGTV and turn the volume way down. That reminds me. My life is SO much better since Daddy finally learned to work the remote. The real one. Not the stupid universal remotes I ordered and spent hours trying to program without success.
When he gets back, I give him the remote. Today, instead of finishing the paper, I decided I'd get outside and finish mowing. After an hour and a half, when my scalp started tingling (not sure why that happens), I finally finished. I got all the grass mowed, including mounds of leaves and gumballs. The perimeter of the yard is already in jungle mode and that overwhelms me. Thank god the renters like to do yardwork and will do that as part of the deal.
The D has started a little routine of walking around supervising me. Today I gave him a broom and asked him if he wanted to sweep the sidewalk, so I'd feel a little less like I was in a prison yard. Then I decided it would be better if he'd prune some of the million scrub trees that proliferate in the jungle. He agreed. I told him to just cut the thin, tall limbs instead of trying to get all the way to the bottom (bending and squatting can make you light-headed and I didn't want him to stroke out or pass out or hurt his back), but he said he was gonna get the whole thing. In an angry voice. Sure enough, I looked over a few minutes later, and he was bent down. So I went and got the little rolling seat he'd given me a long time ago. I told him to sit on it. He didn't answer. I repeated it. The third time, he barked at me - "I said I will!" He never did. When I looked over and didn't see him there, I started to go in the house and check on him, but decided instead to keep on working since my quick scan of the yard didn't reveal an unconcious daddler.
After an hour and a half, I was pretty exhausted and dirty, but mostly finished. I came in and checked on The D. He was fully conscious. Kicked back watching golf. I asked him what he wanted for lunch. He said nothing. I didn't try to twist his arm. I asked him if he'd been going to the bathroom (sometimes when he's having trouble with that, he stops eating), and he said he went a little bit yesterday.
Thank god the church volunteer at the Good House was there mowing the field yesterday afternoon and he agreed to mow my yard. He had a great big tractor mower. He only asked for $20 but I gave him $25. And invited him in for pizza (he declined). I love to mow the lawn, but right now, I just don't have time and I haven't moved the mower to the Good House yet.
When I mow, my mind seems to shift into some kind of hyper-creative mode. Maybe it's the vibration from the mower. Or the noise. Or boredom. Whatever it is, today I came up with about a million blog ideas.
So after the lunch/poop check, I headed to the den and plopped down at my computer and started a Word document and did a quick outline of all the random thoughts that were fresh in my mind from my mowing musings. It's three pages long. And that's mostly the ones related to gardening.
I have a fertile imagination. Hopefully, now that the tax deadline is almost past, I'll have more time for creative pursuits.
For now, I'm gonna hit the shower and then head to Good House to work on organizing my client and personal files. My friend, Sandi, is coming by around 5:00 for a tour. Haven't seen her in forever.
So as awful as yesterday was, today is every bit as good. I got a good night's sleep. The sun's shining and it's in the 70s. I have the pills loaded for the next two weeks and best of all, I finished mowing the lawn and got a little workout doing it. I hope your day's great, too.
Welcome to my world!
My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...